John, Metropolitan of Euchaita

JOANNES EUCHAITENSIS.

NICETAS PECTORATUS IAMBIC POEM ON SYMEON THE YOUNGER

Fragments of the Life of Symeon the Younger will be edited below in the notes of Father Combefisius on the work of Manuel Calecas concerning divine essence and operation.

ANNO DOMINI 1050

JOANNES, METROPOLITAN OF EUCHAITA NOTICE By Conrad Janning, S.J., in the first volume of the June Bollandists.

I had written the preceding paragraph assigning the author of the Life of Dorotheus the Younger to Allatius as John, Metropolitan of Euchaita; and I was turning my mind in every direction, trying to dig from the shadows some information about that author and the age in which he lived, so that, from this knowledge, I might easily define the age of Dorotheus the Younger. I therefore examine Allatius in his Diatribe on the writings of the Symeons; and I find the author's name repeatedly, and snippets of some of his works produced, but nothing about his life or age. I do the same for our Symeon Wangnerechius in his Prolegomena to the Marian piety of the Greeks; and I see at number 25 that John the Hymnographer of Euchaita was known to him, but that he had not yet found anything about his age or life that he felt confident he could prove to learned men. Finally, I observe Maraccius in his Bibliotheca Mariana, equally unsuccessful in the task of investigating the age of John as the two previously mentioned. That glory was reserved for the library of the most august Caesar Leopold, so that what the tireless studies and labors of scholars had sought in vain for a long time might first come to light from there.

When, therefore, in the year 1688, we were passing the summer in Vienna, and were frequently searching the library, which was always open to us through the kindness of the Caesar and the ready cooperation of the noble Lord Daniel de Nessel, the imperial librarian, we came into the notice ^A of a certain paper manuscript, not of very ancient script, which once, like many others, is known to have belonged to C.V. Sebastian Tengnagelius from his own proper inscription, and which contains about 102 almost sacred poems of John alone, concerning whom we are speaking, composed in iambic verse on various matters. On the front of the codex, however, this title is read, honoring the author with the praise of sanctity: *Τοῦ ἐν ἁγίοις Πατρὸς ἡμῶν Ἰωάννου μητροπολίτου Εὐχαΐτων ὑπόμνημα* (Life/Memorial of our Holy Father John, Metropolitan of Euchaita). Then it presents a summary of his life, until now unknown to Latins (indeed, as we have seen, almost unknown to the Greeks themselves).

^B *Ὁ Βίος*. Οὗτος ἦν ἐπὶ τοῦ βασιλέως Ῥωμαίων Κωνσταντίνου τοῦ Μονομάχου καὶ Ζωῆς τῆς βασιλίσσης. Ἔτη δὲ τὰ ἀπὸ τότε συντείνει ἑξήκοντα τέσσαρα πρὸς τοῖς πεντακοσίοις. Ἀνὴρ δὲ σοφώτατος καὶ ἁγιώτατος ὢν συνέγραψε πλείους τῶν λόγων, καὶ ἐπιστολὰς καὶ στίχους ἰαμβικούς, καὶ ἄλλα πολλὰ λόγου καὶ χάριτος ἄξια, καὶ πολλοὺς τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἐξεπαίδευσε ὢν πεπληρωμένος τῆς τοῦ παναγίου Πνεύματος χάριτος. *Vita*. John lived under the Roman Emperor Constantine Monomachus and the Empress Zoe. From that time, the years extend to five hundred and sixty-four (to the time, I suppose, when that writer lived). Since, however, he excelled primarily in wisdom and holiness of life, he wrote many orations, and epistles, and verses

^A iambic, and many other things worthy of being praised and welcomed: moreover, he piously instructed many men, as one filled with the grace of the Holy Spirit.

The writer of the aforementioned codex is noted to have been a certain Andreas Damarius the Epidaurian, whose name is also read inscribed in other codices in the Imperial Library, and especially in the one hundred and seventy-second among the theological ones; where, with the name slightly altered, he is called at the end of the book Andreas Tarmarus the Epidaurian: his age is also indicated there, by the year of Christ recorded as 1560. The same age of Darmarius is confirmed by Gudius, in the Preface to his Paschal [Chronicle], when compared with the autograph ^B of that [writer] in no. 33, where he cites Isaac Casaubon asserting that *De bellico apparatu* was emitted by this same Darmarius, as well as the Fragment of Peter of Alexandria concerning the Pasch. For that Isaac was born in the year 1559, and since he was already from his youth intent on cultivating and clearing up Greek and Latin letters and ancient monuments, as an adolescent he could easily have met the older Darmarius in Gaul. But as Darmarius was the writer of the aforementioned codex in the year 1560, being perhaps still a youth at that time, he seems to have been the author of the *Compendium of the Life*, and indeed the primary one: for in recounting therein the years that elapsed between Constantine Monomachus and his own age, he must have been the first either to write or to summarize that compendium. That he places ^C the number of years that elapsed as somewhat greater than the currently accepted chronology allows, could have occurred through a lack of accurate knowledge of the time when Monomachus reigned. He might also have written the codex with which we are here primarily concerned, long after the one to which he appended the year 1560. Certainly, something must be conceded to error, ignorance, or a lack of accuracy. For from the death of Constantine Monomachus until the year 1560, only 506 years have elapsed, while Andrew posits 564 years. Be that as it may regarding the sense of the writer Andrew; he did noterr, at least, in asserting that John, Metropolitan of the Euchaitae (whom I read also called Mauropus), lived under Constantine Monomachus. For that is also elicited from the writings of John himself; seeing that in three of his poems, namely 74, 87, and 88 in the Imperial ^D codex, he speaks of Constantine as living and acting laudably, and affirms that his image was preserved in the Euchaitae.

Thus far concerning the man himself, little known to the Latins. Now it would be helpful to treat briefly of his writings, which are even less known, and especially to indicate those which the Imperial Library supplies in manuscript. There exists there, among the theological codices, no. 204: *John Metropolitan of the Euchaitae’s Oration on the three holy Fathers Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian or Nazianzen, and John Chrysostom*. Codex 211, from which we have already taken the *Compendium of the Life*, exhibits more than one hundred poems, mostly of a sacred subject, composed in iambic verse. Codex 299 contains his ^A Opuscula, such as the *Canons of Consolation* (to put it that way) to our Lord and God Jesus Christ; they are twenty-four in number, and each has its own acrostic. It also contains two other similar canons to the same our Lord; and a third to the guardian angel: the former are without, the latter is with an acrostic. There follow immediately *canons 67 on our most holy Lady the Mother of God, and eleven canons on St. John the Forerunner*. Finally, codex 309 comprises several canons to Christ, to the first of which is prefixed this acrostic: Πρῶτον φέρω μέλισμά σοι, Θεοῦ Λόγε, μοναχός Ἰωάννης.

And these four codices are now in the Imperial Library, brought there by two men outstanding in study and learning, Belgians by nation, Augerius Busbeckius and Sebastian Tengnagelius. Tengnagelius brought in the two hundred and eleventh with many others; but Busbeckius brought the remaining three, with more than two hundred others, which he had studiously sought out and purchased in Greece while he was carrying out an embassy at Constantinople for the Most August Emperor Ferdinand I. But I will have taken pains if I add here the full title of the canons on the Mother of God, as it is read in codex 299, for identifying the author himself more distinctly. Κανόνες παρακλητικοὶ τῆς ὑπεραγίας Δεσποίνης ἡμῶν Θεοτόκου. Ποίημα Ἰωάννου μοναχοῦ, τὸ ἐπίκλην Μαυρόποδος, τοῦ ἐν ὑστέροις χρόνοις χρηματίσαντος ἀρχιερέως Εὐχαΐτων, οὗ τὸ ὄνομα ἐντέτακται τῇ ἀκροστιχίδι ἑκάστης ἐννάτης ᾠδῆς. [Canons of consolation of our most holy Lady Mother of God. Poem of John the monk, nicknamed Mauropus or Black-foot, who in later times was archbishop of the Euchaitae; whose name is also inserted in the acrostic of every ninth ode.]

To the cited Euchaitian writings may be added those which Allatius notes in his *Diatriba on the Simeons*, producing the beginning and title of each in Greek; namely, *Orations on the feast of the holy Angels*; *on the holy Dormition of the most holy Mother of God*; *in memory of the holy megalomartyr Theodore*; *in memory of the holy martyr Theodore Tiro or in memory of the holy martyr Theodore or of [that of] the Nile*; *on the three holy prelates Basil, Chrysostom, and Gregory*: *Item, another oration on the same, of which the former is the same as the one cited from the Imperial library, the latter different from it.* In addition to these: *Orations in memory of the holy martyr Eusebia among the Euchaitae*; *in memory of the great Triumphator after the celebration of the Paschal triduum*; *on the day of the memorial of the great Triumphator, and of the miracle recently enacted among the Barbarians.* Finally, the *Life*, which we provide below, of our holy Father Dorotheus the Younger or τοῦ ἐν τῷ Χιλιωκόμῳ. And these are indeed his writings, indicated by Allatius; as also the aforementioned, contained in the Imperial codices.

^A And it would suffice to have noted this. Yet, because I desire that the glory of the saints should be held in high regard by the reader, I deeply yearn for the missing orations of the Metropolitan regarding St. Eusebia and both the Theodores.

^B But indeed, Lambecius also wishes to raise a grammatical question: whether one ought to say *Euchaitarum* or *Euchaitorum*? He conjectures, from the Greek termination, that the latter manner of speaking should be preferred to the former. But for my part, in a manner of speaking already accepted among the Latins, I have deemed that nothing should be changed; and I have preferred to call John bishop of the *Euchaitarum* rather than the *Euchaitorum*, especially since the authority of the Greeks themselves also recedes to the usage of the Latins, they frequently inflecting the same name through their own second declension (though more often through the third). For read in the printed Menaia, for the day of 8 February, ἐν ταῖς Εὐχαΐταις, and for the 8th of June, ἐν Εὐχαΐτα. Likewise in the manuscript Menologium of the Emperor Basil, narrating on the day of 8 June concerning St. Theodore, that his relics were deposited ἐν Εὐχαΐτα πλησίον Εὐχαΐτων. Add Zonaras, writing on John Tzimiskes: κατὰ τὴν Εὐχαΐαν ἡ Εὐχαΐταν. Cedrenus also, in the same [account of] Tzimiskes, calls the same place Εὐχαΐαν. Why, therefore, should the same word *Euchaita* not be of the singular number just as much as the plural, and be declined through both the first and second Latin declensions, just as it is known to occur in the names of cities like Solyma, Gangra, and others? What also prevents one from saying the word *Euchaita* in the singular number, as a gentilic for a people inhabiting the city of Euchaita, just as these gentilics are derived from cities not very far removed from Euchaita: *Cypasita*, *Zelita*, *Berita*; and to say nothing of more remote ones, *Ascalonita*, *Bethleemita*, and six hundred others? Surely someone of this opinion existed in our manuscripts, who writes ἐν τοῖς Εὐχαΐταις. But these things are to be left to the grammarians. We, for our part, shall investigate the city of Euchaita and its situation.

^A Ferrarius, in the *Nova Topographia* to the *Roman Martyrology*, when describing Heraclea Pontica, makes Euchaita a city near to it. For Heraclea, situated in the province of Honorias, and indeed in its most remote part, is separated from the Euchaitae not only by the entire extent of its own province, however wide it stretches, but also by that of Paphlagonia, which lies between Honorias and Helenopontus. The manuscript Latin Acts of the martyrdom of St. Theodore Tiro, four copies of which are in our possession, taken from various libraries, have truer accounts: and they all unanimously say that the noble matron Eusebia transferred the body of the holy martyr "into her own possession, which is distant from the city of Amasia by a journey of one day, into a place which is called Euchaita." Amasia lies in the extreme eastern part of Helenopontus by the river Iris; if, therefore, you should be compelled to stop in the evening after one day's journey to any other region of this same province, you would have traveled between the aforementioned Iris and Halys rivers; and thus, it would be possible to place Euchaita between them.

A clearer light would be shed upon these things by the Greek manuscript Life of St. Barbara, which we recently exhumed from the Caesarean library, if the terms of the distance were better known. That Life has at the beginning: "Ἦν δὲ ἐν τῇ χώρᾳ τῇ ἀνατολικῇ, τῇ καλουμένῃ Ἡλιοπόλει, ἀνὴρ κατοικῶν ἐν χωρίῳ ἐπιλεγομένῳ Γελασέοις ὡς ἀπὸ μιλίων δεκαδύω Εὐχαΐτων. — There was in the eastern region, which is called Heliopolis, a certain man dwelling in a village nicknamed Gelaseis, about 12 miles distant from the Euchaitae." It has it again at the end, where it speaks of the burial of the SS. Barbara and Juliana, whose sacred bodies "Valentine, solicitously providing for their burial, placed in a place which is called Heliopolis, near the island in the Gelaseis district, in a venerable dwelling, about 12 miles from the Euchaitae." The Greek words are: "Οὐαλεντίνος, ἐπιμελῶς κηδεύσας τὰ τίμια λείψανα αὐτῶν, ἀπέθετο ἐν τόπῳ καλουμένῳ Ἡλιοπόλει, πλησίον τῆς νήσου ἐν Γελασίοις τῷ χωρίῳ, ἐν οἰκήματι σεμνῷ, ὡς ἀπὸ μιλίων δεκαδύω Εὐχαΐτων." We have here Euchaita, we have Gelaseis, we have Heliopolis: but the situation of all is uncertain, so that it cannot be determined by any of the others. ^D Heliopolis is indeed most famous and of very varied descriptions; but none that might seem to apply here has hitherto become known. As to what might be closest, it is placed by Ortelius and Michael Glycas in Phrygia; but how far is this (whether you understand the greater or lesser) from Helenopontus and Amasia!

Euchaita kept its name up until the empire of John Tzimiskes, who was created emperor in the year 969. The chief glory of his reign was the victory he won over the Russians on the day of St. Theodore, with the holy leader himself favoring them, and "seen by many on horseback defending the Romans, and throwing the phalanxes of the Barbarians into confusion," as Zonaras testifies. Wherefore, the emperor, in order to give thanks to the martyr for the service rendered, [erected] a most elegant temple to him at Euchaita...

[NOTITIA]

^A Eucheita built [a city], the old one having been destroyed; in which his [Theodore’s] body, having fulfilled many contests of miracles performed within it, was deposited; and he renamed the city, the old name having been abolished, Theodoropolis. Yet this appellation did not so abolish the old name that it was not still used afterwards for at least a full century, up to the times, that is, of John Mauropus, whom we saw above commonly inscribed as the metropolitan of the Eucheitai. Nor did the city of Eucheita propagate its fame so widely—due not only to the aforementioned Theodore, the general and martyr (whom it first brought into the light, then received his sacred body after his glorious death, and preserved it with honor in a temple built for his name), but also to the relics and temple of another Theodore, a soldier commonly called the Recruit [Tiro], who was crowned with martyrdom shortly before this—so that it itself came to be among the more celebrated sites to which Christian piety was wont to travel as a pilgrim. This is attested to by the example of John the anchorite in Moschus, in the *Spiritual Meadow*, ch. 180, listing the celebrated places to which he used to travel ^B from Palestine on a quite long journey: sometimes to Ephesus to St. John, sometimes to Eucheita to St. Theodore, sometimes to St. Thecla in Seleucia of Isauria, and sometimes to St. Sergius in Saraphas. Decorated, therefore, with such saints, adorned with such temples, and frequented by such pilgrimages, Eucheita may well have deserved to be raised to an archiepiscopal see and governed by an autocephalous prelate.

NOTITIA EX FABRICIO

Even among the more elegant Christian poets should be numbered John Mauropus(a), a monk, and thereafter metropolitan of the Eucheitai, or Euchania (which is also called Theodoropolis after Theodore the martyr, to whom Emperor John Zimisces built a temple, a city of Helopontus, a province in Asia Minor). He is attested as writing in the times of Constantine Monomachus, Zoe, and Theodora, around the year of Christ 1050. For on p. 43, he asks Christ that, just as He was once present with His help for the three youths in the Babylonian furnace, so too might He be present for these three in the empire.

For as He joined the three youths of old In the midst of the flame as a fourth, So let him be a fourth again here, A refreshing dew to you in the midst of the palaces, Saving the sun first, and granting A life free from suffering, fortunate, victorious, And flourishing in all that is good. Then this moon of the state, Worldproclaiming and most distinguished, Who is nothing other than what she is named; For Life is truly the Life of current existence. And join to me a third and a second, The bright star of the all-blessed crown, Or that one’s sister of equal worth, Greater than all else in glory.

To the same Zoe and Theodora is to be referred the poem, p. 44: *On the Empresses*, where he does not omit to celebrate the emperor.

The noble, yet fortunate master, The fortunate, yet pious and more so, The wonder of the earth, the great Monomachus, Whom providence showed to us as a dissolution of worldly evils And a fountain of all good things.

Add the poem on the image of Constantine Monomachus, dedicated at Eucheita among the Eucheitai, with a particle of the cross of Christ, p. 47. More in praise of Monomachus, p. 23 and 51(b), and on Theodora, p. 52. But he laments the emperor's death, p. 54 seqq. Nor toward them alone, and Zoe and Theodora, was he...

(a) Mauropus is the same as Melanopus. Confer Lambecius, vol. I, p. 149 [p. 272, ed. Kollar]. Confer Oudin, *Comm. de scriptor.*, etc., p. 606; Cave, *Hist. litter. script. eccles.* II, p. 139, ad an. 1051. HARL.

(b) Allatius reports some things with an Argolic Latin version, *De libris ecclesiasticis Graecorum*, p. 97, where there is also a more complete title, *On the book of the deaconry of the Trophy-bearer*, for which Bustus published only: *On the Trophy-bearer*.

^A but he also reached the reign of Alexius Comnenus, since in *Jure Græco-Romano*, Book III, p. 215, among the metropolitans who sat with Nicholas, Patriarch of Constantinople, in the month of June, indiction 15 (that is, 1092 of Christ), Alexius Comnenus (12), John of Euchaita is mentioned.

There exists also an epigram on St. Theophylact, who himself also lived in the times of Alexius Comnenus, p. 47. [By the authority of Cave, l. c., Jo. Mauropus wrote it.]

An encomiastic oration on the three holy Fathers, Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian, and John Chrysostom. In cod. Vindob. Cæs. 204, n. 5. See Lambec. Comment. V, p. 11 sqq. Leo Allatius also mentions this oration in *Diatr. de Simeonum scriptis*, p. 105. See also above concerning Chrysostom, and below, vol. IX, p. 62.

An oration *On the memory of the holy martyr Theodore, that is, the Infantryman*; it begins: *Among us, indeed, good things are not rare, that of the word...* which Nesselius in *Cat. codd. Cæsar.*, part. 1, p. 224, confuses with the former.

Paracletic canons, or 24 consolatory poems to Christ the Savior. In cod. Vindob. Cæsarco theol. 78, according to Nessel's Cat. n. 4, fol. 1. Each individual poem has its own peculiar acrostic, which, just like any ode, the ninth, is marked with the name of John. Lambecius, *Comm.* V, p. 250 sqq., reviewed these and the following hymns or canons more diligently and fully, concerning codex (as numbered) 219. ^B Ibid. fol. 77, p. 2, there are two other Hymns to Christ the Savior, without acrostic and the name of the author.

Ibid. fol. 83, p. 1, A Canon or Hymn to the holy guardian angel. — Fol. 88, p. 4, Canons or 67 hymns to Mary the Mother of God, each one of which has its own peculiar acrostic, and likewise, as with any ode, the ninth, is marked with the name of John. — Fol. 315, p. 1, Canons or 14 hymns to St. John the Baptist, composed in the same manner as the former. — Some paracletic canons are also in cod. Cæsar. 309, end. See Lambec. V, p. 575.

Ibid. cod. 103, are contained 102 of his sacred iambics, prefaced by his own Epitome. Lambecius described this codex more carefully, which he numbers 211, in *Comment.* vol. V, p. 66 sqq.; and he set down the inscriptions and beginnings of the individual poems, and likewise corrected Hippolytus Maraccius of Lucca, who in *Bibliotheca Mariana* discusses the age of Joannes Mauropus as an uncertain matter, and Sim. Wagnereck, who in *Pietate Mariana Græcorum*, part 1, in *Prolegom.* n. 23, writes that he had not yet found anything of our author that he would trust himself to prove to learned men. Lambecius himself, however, was unaware of the Bustus edition, wondering that the sacred poems were cited six times by Jo. Meursius in his *Glossarium Græco-Barbarum*, and indeed as if already published. But Kollarius, in note A, located at the place of our Fabricius, has taught more certain things.

The same Jo. Maur. wrote the *Life of St. Eusebia*, held in great veneration among the Euchaitæ; likewise the *Life of St. Dorotheus the Younger in Chiliocomus*, from which Cave indicates that certain fragments were brought out by Leo Allatius in his book *De consensu utriusque Ecclesiæ in dogmate de purgatorio*, p. 754. Add Fabricius himself in the section on Jo. Maur. ^C

Besides the mentioned Viennese codices, there are others also in which the *Opuscula* of Jo. Mauropus exist. At Florence in the Laurentian Library: A Canon to the holy guardian angel, in cod. 17, n. 12, plut. 15 (*Bandin. Cat. codd. Gr. Laur.* I, p. 40). An Encomium on the holy Fathers, Basil the Great, Gregory the Theologian, and John Chrysostom, in cod. 47, n. 29 (*Band.* l. c. p. 418). That Encomium is also in the Vatican codices (see Montf. *Bibl. bibl. mss.* I, p. 12 D, and 13 C); in cod. Mediol. Ambr. ibid. p. 500 A; in cod. Paris. bibl. publ. 559, n. 9, and 1557, n. 24, according to *Cat. codd. Paris.* vol. II; — in codd. Coislin. 504 and 307, in *Homilies and Lives of the Holy Martyrs*, Jan. See Montfauc. in *Bibl. Coisl.* p. 418, whom, I wonder, one has never found mentioning it; and p. 433, where he errs, that Cave did not remember that little work.

At Turin in the Royal Library: codd. 70, fol. 329, and 116, in the *Sermons and Lives of the Holy Fathers*, month of January. An Invocation and confession to the guardian angel of our life, in 456 iambic verses. A Sermon on the Dormition of the Mother of God, in cod. 31, n. 21, plut. 10. — A metric etymologicon of the more famous names in Holy Scripture, in cod. 13, n. 49, plut. 74. See Bandin. I, p. 420 and 496, and vol. I, p. [m], where he doubts whether those etymological poems are found in the Eton edition. In the same cod. 13, n. 50, is the Beginning of those etymologies which pertain to man, in iambic verses, of which Bandini suspects the author to be the same John, p. 112. — At Turin, in the Royal Library, cod. 108, *Hypomnema* on the Dominical solemnities in iambic and other verses, prefaced by the Life of Joannis Mauropus. See more in the cited Cat. p. 244. — Paris, in bibl. publ. cod. 847, iambics on Theodoret, prefaced to his *Commentary on the twelve minor prophets*; in cod. 1182, n. 113, Epistle of Joannes, metropolitan of Euchaita. — At Munich, in the electoral library, cod. 235, Iambic verses on the feasts of the Lord and on others of diverse argument. (See *Cat. codd. Gr. Bavar.* p. 82.) — Concerning a certain unpublished Oration of Jo. Maur., in which he discusses 1 John v, 7: *Oi autoi treis kai en*, see Franc. Anton. Knittel in *Neuven Kriticken über den 1. Spruch. Drey sind, die da zeugen im Himmel, etc.*, Brunsv. 1785, 8, sect. 2. (HARL.) ^D

^A His Iambic epigrams and poems on the pictures and histories of the principal feast days and holy Fathers, as well as on various other subjects, appeared in a short volume of pages, p. 73, published in Greek under the care of Matth. Bustus of Eton, who added no translation, ^B though he did append a few not unlearned notes at the end of the volume (Eton, 1610, 4to, printed by Joan. Norton, in the same type in which Savile’s Chrysostom was subsequently produced about the same time). Bustus does not deny that he changed the order he found in his manuscript codex, although the Vienna codex, of which Lambecius speaks (V, p. 29 [p. 66 Kollar]), and to which the Eton edition was unknown, also agrees with Bustus’s codex. The Euchaitan [metropolitan] says that he is giving these poems as a kind of taste from many others that he has written in prose and verse:

I, having selected these words of mine From many others, metrical and unmetrical, Bring and give them only to those who love words, As a small taste of an abundant, fragrant wine, That these may be a moderate pleasure to them, Removed from excessive pride, drunkenness, and nausea.

He mentions on page 70 that he undertook the laborious task of cleansing and correcting the errors of the codices:

Having rendered a fine service to the books, I myself receive a poor return. For while I have already healed the diseases of others, I have withered and fared badly myself, My body crushed by an immoderate amount of labor. But you, who live in luxury from the toils of others, And sail in their calm through the storms I faced, Remember the exhausted one before the Lord.

He mentions individually the Menaea, which he reviewed and emended:

On the Menaea bestowed upon Euchaita. Having gone through the daily books of hymns, And having smoothed out all the writing therein, And having ordered the hand and the mind as best I could, I give a gift to a friend, very fitting ^C For the garlanded one presiding over this place, Who dwells within this Church, Through whom I might attain to the immaculate book, Inscribed by the hand of the Creator.

He hints, p. 69, that he wrote a Chronography, but broke it off once he reached his own time, so that he would not be compelled to defile History with adulation:

Let the writer not speak a falsehood. He might perhaps lie in other speeches, Since those in command love such things, And those who delight in praises for the book. Yet it seemed better to speak in a more restrained way— For the power of applause knows no limit. Therefore, let these be left to encomiums, And let the writing proceed no further. For it is not well-disposed toward the ways of falsehood, And law forbids this deviation. Here, then, he halts his running for a time, Until someone gives it the right to run smoothly.

He was made Bishop and Metropolitan against his will, since, being content with little and uniquely intent upon books and studies, nothing pleased him more than to remain hidden away in them, and to continue to be free, while instructing the young, from the envy, dangers, and cares which the splendor of higher dignities is accustomed to bring with it.

Other, he says, p. 591, I count of little pleasure; For this is sufficient to gladden the soul richly, Teeming with every pleasure and grace. But lead me thus, and carry me, O Word, Unchanged, unshaken, firmly established, Remaining within the decreed boundaries, Turning like a bee among the flowers in books, ^D

(c) That the more musical [alt-version omitted] might be able to look upon this with less disgust, I have taken care to have it published in Greek alone, nor have I been able to endure binding the spirit and vivid Greek poet, like the Virgilian Mezentius, to the bloodless and putrid cadaver of a Latin translation: which practice, while some do it, especially with poets, it is to be feared—as one of the ancients believed that the fire was polluted by cremating the corpses of the dead, and, being greatly moved, is said to have called upon Prometheus to bring aid so that he might steal away (if he could) by a similar theft the fire he had pilfered from heaven for mortals—that likewise someone should arise who would wish to protest against the inventor of typography, so that he might take back this benefit of his, which has been transferred to unworthy uses, and at least withdraw it for a time.

Like a cicada feeding me on words with dew, Persuading only those present to remain, And to ask for nothing else save salvation. ^A Well has she cultivated many of the young, For I do not claim all, lest I should boast. But yet she lifted up most from the lessons, And to many, she brought something regarding character, Of whom the education is more fortunate Than these superfluous refinements in words. These young men, whom I have schooled, I offer as the greatest gain for the talent.

^B Will you hide your lamp in a corner? What is this you say, man? Why do you call a "lamp" That which does not have the light befitting a lamp? There once was a lamp, I know, for it must not be denied. But not having sufficient oil for nourishment, It shows the wick extinguished, And in its wasting away, the gleam of light, Shining dimly, has no radiance. For the word weakens together with the flesh, Like a musical lyre to one who is suffering.

The greatness of the name of this John of Euchaita among the Greek hymn-writers is not small, and monuments of his genius and piety occur in the ecclesiastical books of the Greeks; from these, Nic. Rayeus, S.J., published Canons for the feasts of SS. Basil, Nazianzen, and Chrysostom with his own translation in the preliminary dissertation to Vol. II of the *Acta Sanctorum* of June, pp. 50-59; and the Canon to the Deipara, p. 49 sq. The acrostic of the former Canon is: *The thrice-sunlit light kindled three suns*. Nicetas Allatius cites the Canons for S. Nicholas against Hottinger, p. 183. Regarding this John, one should also see Vol. I of the *Acta Sanctorum* of June, pp. 515-614, in which is presented the *Life of his teacher, Dorotheus the Younger, of Trapezus and Chiliocomo*, written by him, with the translation of Conrad Janning, S.J. From the *Life of S. Eusebia*, whose memory was honored among the Euchaitenses, the same Allatius produces some things in his book *On Purgatory*, p. 754 sq. Perhaps in the Cordenian Catena of the Greek Fathers on the Psalms, where John is cited, it is not Chrysostom who is meant—who always appears in that work under the name Chrysostom—but our Euchaitensis, whom Colomesius, from the catalog of Constantinopolitan manuscripts of Antonius Verderius, noted as having added certain things to the Exposition of Origen on the Psalms.

CONCERNING THE MORE RECENT AND THREE DOCTORS OF THE GREEKS: BASIL, NAZIANZEN, AND CHRYSOSTOM, ON A COMMON FEAST

LIFE OF S. DOROTHEUS THE YOUNGER, OR IN CHILIOCOMO

CHAPTER I. The birth, flight, monastic life, and priesthood of Dorotheus.

1. It was fitting that Pontus be adorned not only by ancient but also by recent narratives of events, so that from both sides its glory might be the more celebrated, ^D while referring the present to

^A the likeness of those who have gone before, just as to the nobility of ancestors; and by confirming from present events that glory of theirs, which otherwise seems incredible on account of its strangeness, beyond what is believed. And by both sight and hearing, he is attested to be both productive and fruitful in virtue, of which his whole region is full; for from time to time, in different parts of it, one or another has displayed the accomplishment of goodness, and indeed, even after the struggles of life, they leave their bodies behind near the place of their combat, as a secure pledge of salvation for the surrounding inhabitants.

^B 2. Of these, Dorotheus is one, the great one among ascetics; I mean the recent one, who was of our own time; concerning whom there is much speech, and [it is a subject] that has need of long writing and history. But for us, I think that a few things from many will suffice; for these are instead of many, even if they be not many; since they are themselves sufficient to manifest both the intensely philosophical and the intensely God-loving nature of the man, and furthermore how much grace he enjoyed in addition to these, and even before departing from here, he received a down payment of the intimacy with God which now receives him. This man of such great stature, therefore, was born in a place from here or there, from a distinguished neighboring city, or rather a metropolis of a nation not unknown. For he was a Trapezuntine by race and one of those well-born, and of those in the first rank of authority; for his ancestors on his father's side were among the patricians; and not those who had only recently arrived at that dignity from the common people, but those for whom the nobility was, so to speak, hereditary; and those who even now, on account of the outstanding glory of their lineage, are praised as a kind of Heraclidae and Pelopidae.

^C 3. Proceeding from these, then, he passed the beginnings of his life properly under preceptors and tutors, as was naturally to be expected for one who is well-born. When he first reached his twelfth year of age, a sweet solicitude and consideration immediately arose in his parents regarding him, and an anxious counsel to bind him, a free man, with the bonds of marriage. For the people were still ignorant that the boy was nobler in soul than in body, who even before the age of the body, thinking above the body, and from the very first looking immediately toward higher things than common and ^D customary ones, thought it necessary to despise flesh and blood, and to keep the whole, both body and spirit, pure for the Spirit. For this reason, also, not having any other way to achieve this desire of his mind, and to overcome those obstacles that were drawing him away, he wisely hides himself and, suddenly a fugitive, the noble youth [departs] from there.

^A Having wandered not a little in search of a guide—as he was very young and otherwise unaccustomed to travel—he eventually arrives at Amisus, and there, by divine prompting, he finds the object of his quest. John was the discovery the fugitive was looking for; that John, I say, who was well-versed in divine things, a man inspired in other respects as well, and endowed with a soul adorned by the gift of discernment.

4. This admirable man was then occupied with laying the foundations of his most holy monastery, which they call by the name of Gennas, that is, of the Nativity. ^B Having therefore seen the fugitive stranger arriving there with full sails, as they say, and showing such zeal and eagerness to be enrolled in the company of those who were already being trained by him in monastic discipline, he receives the youth most kindly and embraces him with open hands, sagaciously foreseeing the future through the perspicacity of his own mind, which we have already mentioned. Having first brought forward every test, and having taken the measure of the young man’s mind and disposition—as the monastic rule requires, in order to test how he holds the affection for obedience, which keeps the primary place among other virtues; how he is animated toward enduring labors and hardships; and, to speak briefly, whatever else is required by rule to be asked of those who are to be received into this great wrestling-ground of virtue—he examined him sufficiently. ^C When he saw that the youth in all things relating to a religious life approved himself, and that he meditated nothing alien to perfection, he finally gained confidence, cut his hair, and installed the worthy man in the holy place.

5. This was indeed the first and greatest of the things desired by Dorotheus; and thus, like the deer in the Psalm, running in thirst to this spiritual fountain, he both quenched his thirst and stilled his desire—or rather, he kindled and stirred it up even more. ^D For after he had tasted its sweetness, he was inflamed with a more vehement desire to attain it, and whatever was present always excited in the recipient a craving for that which was lacking. Having therefore begun from this point his noble way of life, and having entered the sacred wrestling-ground, what kind of monastic virtue did he omit? To whom did he yield the primacy in the exercise of good works? For the admirable man was immediately appointed, as he was in the prime of youth and needed to subject his body to the spirit through labors and afflictions, to serve the needs of the brothers. And when the common Father and teacher provided the young man with further opportunities, one after another, for the laborious exercise of himself, so that his good works might shine forth, it is difficult to say in which he was found to be more or less approved; for all things were equal and similar, and [they were] of one another

like a chain of gold, ^A the nobility, the readiness, the reasoned judgment, the dexterity, the promptness to obey even before being commanded, and that which surpasses expectation; to finish the work; and above all, that which is the highest and greatest of all, to think he has accomplished nothing great, even if he had performed the best of all things; but looking toward the Lord’s commandment, and after having fulfilled all things, to call himself an unprofitable servant, and unworthy of the prayer and blessing of those who serve God.

6. Having spent so long a time in such labors, and being proven as no one else to be so capable in the service of men, from that point he is deemed worthy also of the ministry of God ^B and, having served well (to quote the apostolic word at the right moment), earned for himself a good degree, as he was deservedly deemed worthy to praise the Lord in the seat of the presbyters. He was entrusted with such a degree, indeed, to properly adorn it through acts that were suitable; and he adorned it even more than he was entrusted with it; for he was so industrious concerning this holy liturgy that for sixty-two whole years, from the time he received the priesthood, he offered the holy sacrifice to God every day, allowing himself to be hindered by no cause, and suffering no lethargy. And [he did this] with such ^C prudence and purity that, after the new monastery (of which discourse will presently be held) was built and his migration to it was made, he never set foot beyond its walls, nor did he allow any woman at all to come into his sight. As for men, his conversation was sweetest only with those who were zealous for God and who had made virtue, like him, a continuous practice; but he avoided the company of those differently disposed. He spent most of his time with himself and with God, not merely paying Him his prayers as others are accustomed to do, but continually ^D watering the floor with a never-ceasing rain of tears, having his heart burning within him with the divine fire of wondrous contrition according to the Gospel, and showing his face, like the God-seer of old, similarly glorified from the same cause, and something greater than, and beyond, human appearance. Thus did that holy man know how to honor the priesthood, and thus was he in turn honored by it. And what else could have been expected for him, whose life thereafter shone forth so much, and who so endeared himself to the divine service (so that I might not pass through the details of each of the other things), that the man was deemed worthy of ineffable visions and received the revelation of great mysteries, the end of which is the governance and salvation of souls, wonderful in its origin

and occasion, and in its outcome better than all hope. ^A

CAPUT II.

He experiences ecstasies, and by divine command builds a monastery and a temple.

7. In what manner, then, and whence did this happen? Dorotheus was once being sent by his spiritual Father for some necessary business, for not even after he had been elevated to the venerable order of the priesthood did he cease from performing the services of the brethren with great humility and readiness of spirit. But when he had performed all the duties of a subordinate most excellently, it was necessary for him, who had learned to be subject to others and to obey in such important matters, at length to rule others himself, and to be called truly great in the kingdom of heaven: since he not only did what is the role of a subordinate, but also taught that subjection is a sign of divine visitation, on account of which the grace of God had betrothed him to itself through love. When, therefore, he was going to where the ^B excellent man had been sent, at the third hour of the day, he betook himself, for the sake of prayer, to one of the temples along the way, as was his custom, even though he was pressed by most serious business; the temple was called Saint Anne’s, the grandmother of our Savior. Having entered, therefore, inside, he placed his knees upon the ground, and having lifted his hands, eyes, and mind toward heaven, he became entirely in an ecstasy, and when he had with difficulty returned to himself after some time, he exclaimed three times in succession: "Holy Trinity, glory to you." At that time, indeed, since the vision perhaps indicated nothing further, he thought that the utterance had escaped him without cause; and keeping the mystery in his heart in silence, he was at once in suspense of mind, and was considering carefully what it might mean for him. Nor did much time pass, when being sent again for the sake of some ministry, he is taught the mystery more perfectly and clearly, in this way.

8. As he was going along the foot of this mountain which now ^C bears that holy monastery of his on its summit, a certain divine vision of a man in the habit of a monk appeared to him; the monk was white-headed, venerable, decently adorned in sacred vestments, and bearing something divine in his countenance. He, therefore, calling the holy man by name, "Do you see," he said, "my child Dorotheus, that which lies above?" And at the same time, he pointed with his hand to the peak. "This," he said, "was once a dwelling place inhabited by many illustrious men, adorned with a venerable temple, distinguished by the most divine name of the Trinity, of which now only the ruins are seen surviving. That very same place ought to be rebuilt by you more magnificently, and inhabited more splendidly, to the honor of the most holy Trinity, for such is Her will. But do you see that you remember these things in due time, and obey without hesitation. As for the rest, be of good spirit and have hope, for the holy Trinity will be concerned for all things." When he had said these things, he who appeared immediately vanished from his sight; but he who had seen the one who appeared and had heard him speak, was seized by both fear and joy ^D greater than speech; for he was struck by the paradoxical nature of the vision...

and by a joy which suffused him, because he now saw that the mystery which had previously befallen him was declared and explained; and he told himself that it was not without reason that, in that former vision, the all-holy Trinity was invoked three times with his full strength. Yet he could not in any way grasp what the outcome of the matter might be. But, as it seems, the solution to the first difficulty was the beginning of a second one; this troubled his soul, both because of the order of obedience—as it was not permitted to him, still being under commandment and completing his obedience, to perform anything great or small contrary to the will of him who led him—and because, wisely considering the measure of his own ability, he judged that he was in no way sufficient for pastoral knowledge, nor for the expense or care of such a work and undertaking, and he was being held by an unspeakable longing for his teacher, like the unavoidable Sirens, and he would have endured everything rather than suffer the loss of his company.

9. ^B Now he was struggling with these thoughts; but these things could not, of course, be hidden from the one who saw him, who was none other than he himself, the director and teacher of this divine Father, to whom even now, as always, everything was known, acting as he did to reveal deep things and uncover hidden ones, even though he was far away. For when he had returned after the completion of his service, and after waiting a little while, he called the holy man to him and said: "Why do you hesitate, my son Dorotheos? Has memory perhaps failed you regarding what was divinely commanded to you and what he enjoined?" He spoke, and seeing the holy man suddenly troubled by this paradoxical speech and stunned as if by some thunder, he gradually revived him, called him back with kindness, and finally, grasping him with his hands, he led him back. But he, ^C mindful of both his own and his fathers' footsteps, besought, entreated, and pleaded, and honored his teacher's beautiful feet with kisses, tears, and an embrace of his hands. For what did he not say? What did he not do, of those things born to move a merciful soul to compassion? He begged for this one thing alone: that he might not be separated from his master, calling this plain separation from God and a loss of his soul, a thing he termed painful and intolerable, and resisting absolutely. But the great moderator, comforting him again, said: "It cannot be otherwise, my son. For you know that this commandment is from God, not from man. ^D As for what God the Holy One has determined, who shall thwart it? And His high hand, who shall turn back? It is not right, therefore, not to obey the divine arrangements; for this would be not only useless, but altogether impossible. As for us, should it be your will, nothing will prevent me from visiting you, even if you were to dwell at the ends of the earth, and from giving you advice in our customary way and guiding you in the things of the spirit."

10. Which he did, and as he had promised, the truthful servant of truth did not cease to do thereafter; but when he heard these things, contrary to his hope and opinion, he did not delay further...

neither did he offer excuses, nor bring forward anything to the contrary, nor gainsay; but without any reluctance, he committed himself entirely to grace. ^A And with a willing mind, choosing that which was more fitting, he departed immediately—or rather, he went, as he had been commanded, to the place pointed out to him by the vision. That place, indeed, which is visible from the surrounding area, although formerly it was uninhabitable, now holds and nourishes so numerous a flock of monks, living in hope, as it is written, bringing them out from that which was previously uninhabited and nourishing them with food, both bodily and, to a much greater extent, spiritual, for which they place the primary concern, and for the sake of which they undertake spiritual and salutary struggles. Sending him to this place, ^B by God and by that great Father and teacher of his, without any delay or any hesitation, he set to work, adding labors to labors and sweats to sweats, clearing, removing, and leveling the ground with his own hands, for the noble man. For the place was full of wild growth, and full of collapses and rubbish of every kind. Wherefore, in the beginning, it seemed indeed to be doing what was already done, and that he was attempting to achieve the impossible: since he purposed to build a church and establish a monastery in a desert and trackless land; and that, too, being a foreigner among foreigners, poor, exiled, unknown, and destitute of all help and counsel. For he was entirely alone, having no assistant except for one, Basil, a good man, whom he had requested and obtained from their common Father as a companion of his pilgrimage and his struggles from among those standing about him. ^C Since, as he made a beginning of his labor and was undertaking such great struggles, he was not to be abandoned in the end by divine Providence. For the peoples living round about, soon perceiving what the matter was, and wisely deciding that such things were not happening among them without God as the mover, applied their own hand to the work with all zeal and effort; readily bringing their aid and labor with money, strengths, and by all other means; from which (to sum up the whole) both the sanctuary in a short time, and the monastery a little later, were brought to the form in which they are now seen: although time, however brief, also added some small increment to those things which were done at that time.

11. ^D This, then, is the cause and this the account of the man's being in this place; and this is the work, and this the manner of his dwelling and laboring there; or rather, that was not his true work, but in a way an occasion and foundation for a better work, for he directed and brought all these things toward the fulfillment, I say, of virtue, and the exercise and institution of the angelic way of life, which he himself initiated and left behind to those who came after him in that place. And the first principles, which he wished to be the Rule for his own, he borrowed as it were certain elements from his great Father; and their form, described from the precepts of that celebrated Arsenius, like another Moses, inscribed with the commands of God.

^A Now, this Arsenius was a man most renowned for virtue among the monks, and the one who first of all began and directed the place called the Golden Rock, which itself is not far from there. But Dorotheus himself, adding many things invented by himself, interwove them into his own complex crown of ascetic beauty, both to increase its beauty more and to lay a foundation of greater usefulness. For what sort of virtue was not practiced among them? Was it long-suffering? Was it modesty? Was it the despising of present things, or the love of future ones? Was it meekness? Was it purity? Was it poverty of spirit? Or, in short, was it anything else among those things that can render a man blessed or are otherwise praiseworthy? Moreover, poverty, frugality, temperance in all things, the zeal for wakefulness, insatiable ardor in the singing of psalms, intensity in prayer, the meditation on divine things, ^B and charity toward pilgrims and beggars—what a small part are these of the things which it would be easy to recount?

12. It is theirs to seek and busy themselves with nothing at all of bodily things, but only with those that pertain to the soul, unless some vital necessity presses and such things be those without which life can in no way be sustained. It is also theirs—a matter no less spiritual and apostolic than the rest—that when they must ask for something for the sake of necessity, they should be burdensome to no one, nor yet place an obstacle to the excellent exercise of virtue through the neglect of such bodily needs; but they work with their own hands when there is need, and assist themselves by their own efforts in their necessities. ^C But that care for external affairs, to which many of the simpler sort so solicitously apply themselves in order to collect things necessary for those in training, they strive to transfer to things easily obtained; or rather, they abstain from it altogether, that they might everywhere perform works of righteousness without offense or scandal, and that the conscience of no one might be troubled in regard to any of their works: but if the means are at hand, they gladly make others participants in their own labors, so that from this, too, the power of virtue might be more admirable, which pursues philosophical poverty yet distributes to others with an opulent hand; for Paul also declares ^D that his hands provided for his own needs and those of his companions. Having this example set before him, this apostolic man—nay, I would call him an apostle—practiced himself most excellently in these things, and instructed his own. Now, however, we must consider, along with their other deeds, that thing also to which they steadfastly apply themselves, namely, manual labor, insofar as this is only a secondary occupation; whereas the primary work consists in the fact that they offer to God worship and sacrifices of every kind—nor do I know if anywhere else there is greater care taken in this than here: so that they possess the good, entire and complete and perfect in every part, regarding the body indeed sufficiently, but regarding the soul abundantly and with the most absolute perfection.

^A

CHAPTER III

Miracles and death of the Saint.

13. Such then was the marvelous institution and manner of life of the great legislator, and such too was the legislator himself who established this great and divine civic order; and this alone would have sufficed as a sufficient proof of the man’s virtue, and how God cared for him, and how he in turn cared for God—who glorifies those who glorify Him, and so honors those who honor Him in return. But since the multitude of graces and gifts that flowed into the holy man from above is on the lips of many—for those who are eager to hear are naturally accustomed to prick up their ears more keenly at the narration of new things—let us also now bring forward a few of his miracles, and this with as much brevity as possible, so that we may not, while desiring to gratify the hearers' love for novelty, inadvertently tire out their ears with the length of our speech. The first and greatest among all the miracles in this man was the fact that he habitually and perfectly penetrated or contemplated things divine, and carried out in act the things he had known must be done; whence, as is right, he was deemed worthy of more abundant illuminations from heaven, on account of the purity of his soul. And here are the examples.

14. It was summer time and the heat of the day, when suddenly the eyes of the observer anticipated the event; and he himself at once anticipated it, and cried out at such an unseasonable hour, summoning the brothers to church; and when they had run together as was to be expected, quickly and with astonishment at the paradox (for the time of the evening hymns had not yet come), "Let us give, O children and brothers," he said, "let us give glory together to God, who beyond all hope has now saved from the depth of the sea so-and-so,"—adding the name. Having said these things, he said nothing else, but merely led them, wondering, ^C to the gathering. Not many days intervened, when that very man, hastening to the monastery, fell in, crying out with a loud voice to his savior and deliverer, who had restored his life to him; and taking hold of his venerable feet with both hands with as much alacrity and affection as he could, he did not release them nor rise from the ground, although urged by everyone, until he had recounted the whole sequence of his fortune to those present: how, by the order of the king, he was sailing through the Astacenian gulf (7), and fell into a violent storm; and having been capsized with his fellow-voyagers, he had reached the bottom, and was already on the verge of being violently suffocated by the waters, when he saw a gentle vision and heard a most desirable voice, commanding him to take heart, from the holy Father, who was at the same time stretching out a saving hand. Seizing this like a sacred anchor, he said, "Beyond hope and beyond all expectation, in a way surpassing every word, I was cast up on dry land, immune from harm." ^D

(7) The gulf stretches away in a long tract towards the Orient, and bathes Bithynia; it took its name from Astacus, a city once famous. For another city of the same name in Acarnania does not belong here. This same gulf is also sometimes called the Nicomedian, from Nicomedia, which similarly lies adjacent to that gulf, and is thought to have been either founded or increased from the ruins of Astacus.

^A And behold, I am now present to offer the gifts of salvation and thanksgiving to You who saved me, Father. The time of the incident was noted in relation to that of the prediction, and it was found to cause the same astonishment both to the one who suffered and to those who had heard it beforehand. Such was one of the great miracles, if indeed it is but one, since it involves foreknowledge, prophecy, and a power beyond human capacity to restore unexpected salvation to men. But there is another, or rather there are others, which it is necessary to condense now, and to recount many and manifold things in the way of a single narrative, even though each of them occurred at different times. ^B 15. It occurred that certain brothers of that sacred flock would sometimes depart for some private necessity, and were rather slothful regarding their return; for the superior, Dorotheus, would frequently call them back, and urge them on as they delayed, calling the matter unbecoming and not advantageous for those who were deserting their duty beyond what was proper. But they, excusing themselves with various pretexts for their sins, would postpone their return. The holy man did not merely warn them in parables, but clearly signified to them the end of their life, if they did not return to their customs as quickly as possible. He did not persuade them by predicting, but he persuaded them by proving that his prophecies came to pass. For a very short time elapsed thereafter when each of them, as he had threatened, suffered the miserable reward of their disobedience, meeting an ignominious death outside the house of the Lord. And such was he according to the gift of prophecy; as for the grace of miracles, how great was he! ^C The monks were occupied with some building necessary for them when a very large stone broke the machine by which it was being lifted, and with great force it fell down the slope, about to fall upon the heads of the builders. A great terror immediately gripped their souls at the visible danger, and all raised a horrific cry of desperation, except Dorotheus, who was present and despaired of nothing. For his hands were immediately raised to God—hands pure and holy—and a fervent prayer, mixed with tears, under the invocation of the Holy Trinity (O miracle! O the powerful force of virtue!) stopped the danger in a moment and made manifest the power of Him who stopped it. For the stone, as if reverencing the one who restrained it, ^D was thrust backward, and having checked its momentum, it stood still, testifying even until now to the power that worked the miracle; for it is still no less fearful to those who see it, not appearing to lie on a slippery and precipitous place, but as if it were suspended and hanging over those walking below, like some other mythical and Tantalian stone. 16. What a measure of blessing did even the manual works of his hands possess! The care of a vineyard

was committed to certain monks, who were bestowing strenuous labor upon it; and he, approaching and accompanying them as their prefect and comrade, secretly threw ^A grains of pulse into the earth, softly covering them with soil with his feet. Now that which had been sown did not fill a tenth part of a [medimnus]; but that which was returned in due season (good God, who shall recount the power of Your righteous ones!) was reckoned at thirty [medimni] in all. One who had the leisure could truthfully enumerate more of such prodigies of the man—and those very true—by bringing forward, for the firmest confirmation of his words, not those gathered by hearsay, but those very people who witnessed each of these things with their own eyes. Since the report of his deeds had penetrated even unto the kings themselves, making the performer famous by his virtue, which, as is its wont, raised him to great glory. For it made the holy man so venerable to them that they considered that something beyond human stature ^B should be attributed to him in other respects; and indeed, they bestowed their royal solicitude upon his divine work (I mean this new and venerable monastery), providing what was necessary for its expenses and bringing aid to bear against any molestations whatsoever—molestations, I mean, that arrived from the outside, by which both formerly and now especially all things are disturbed, and for the cause of which human life is violently shaken. And thus the glory of the holy man's good deeds grew to the greatest magnitude and admiration, and his life shone forth throughout almost the entire world.

17. And what of his death! (For why should we extend the account any further?) How wondrous it was, in truth, and how truly worthy of such a life, for the grace full of divine gifts to be active in his soul even then! For the body was not yet beset by any weakness, nor did any trace of infirmity appear; ^C when the holy man predicted that death was fast approaching him, and prayed, moreover, that a portion of the small items that were in the monastery be given to him, that he might have a viaticum, as he said, for the migration to that place. When those monks, rich in their poverty, had immediately and eagerly brought everything into the midst (for they had long been trained in obedience by their master), he quickly arranged for half of them to be distributed among the neighbors. They were, as was fitting, most common and of no value whatever—coverings and little vessels—and those destined for the reception and service of guests. In addition to these, he desired that the poor be made partakers, out of pity, of all the things that were stored up to sustain life, before he died. ^D

18. Three days thereafter, rising earlier than usual, he went around the little houses of the brethren, and dealing with each separately, and falling at their feet, as a pattern of the humility that truly exalts its own, he asked for their prayers and for forgiveness for his faults. In the meantime, while the brethren, with demure reverence and religion, stood around their Father

^A bowing to the ground, according to their duty, and embracing him with tears, midday passed. Then, as he loved his own exceedingly, he bade them all go away and take some food, saying that nothing more ought to be expended by them upon his own needs; for, as was his custom, he was no longer anxious about the common affairs, but was intent only upon his private necessity, and did not wish his own people to be troubled on his account. Some, indeed, resisted strongly, while others used more force upon him, until, as he was doing everything he could, they yielded a little and withdrew. They returned, however, with haste immediately; and finding the holy man praying with greater intensity, they stood back with reverence until, having finished his prayer, he exhorted the brethren to chant the psalms. And as he lay down, quietly, ^B if I may so speak, and prone upon the ground, stretching out his body and feet, he rested and slept in peace, as it is written—sleeping indeed a sleep truly becoming to the just, and not a death. And in this manner this holy Father of ours was added to his fathers, a son of the kingdom of God, to which he set out so willingly, hastening toward the prize of the high calling, and passing forth in an extraordinary way from these miseries to the rest above; so that his passing is no less worthy of admiration than his life.

19. Such, then, was Dorotheus’s dwelling on earth, such his acts and deeds pleasing to God, such the abundant gifts bestowed upon him ^C by God; such, furthermore, was his departure from this life, altogether most glorious and becoming, and like a golden crown placed, as is right, upon the conduct of the man. By his intercessions before God, whom he highly pleased, we also desire to become pleasing, as much as our state and strength permit; for his goodness knows how to rejoice in its own humanity even over the least things, and to extend a helping hand to those who desire to attain virtue. The Saint, moreover, can supply what is lacking; for the same kindness, which here held the first place among his virtues, now also perseveres there, without doubt, and with no small increase to itself; especially since he is now closer to that fountain ^D of all good things, from which, drawing forth abundantly and copiously, he had already served and benefited many, and attained such great holiness. Now, however, he will benefit us more liberally, and will display his beneficence toward all of us who still survive in this life and are involved in this wrestling-ground of discipline, until He who has rewarded our Father shall call us too to the rest above, or rather, I should say, to the freedom from all trouble; to whom is due all glory, honor, and worship, now and always, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.

OF OUR HOLY FATHER JOHN OF EUCHAITA, A SERMON ON THE ALL-VENERABLE DORMITION OF THE MOST HOLY THEOTOKOS

PROEMIUM

^A From the undefiled meadow of flowers, I bring a wreath woven for thee, O Queen, A foreign gift, yet fitting for thee; For all things, even things foreign, serve thee. It is a garden of praises, like Eden, which nurtures plants, Glowing with many herbs and flowers, From which no seasons take away their vernal honor, Nor do the changes of the sky harm their grace; But it blooms perennially and shines even more Than the beauty of freshly blooming roses. From this were these germs gathered for me, To whom it befell to soften the garden with cultivation: From this was this crown of flowers intertwined, Unworthy of thee, O Virgin (for nothing mortal is worth thee), Yet befitting of love; For love brought together all powers here, Desiring to adorn thee with rich praises. Therefore, looking upon this crown with a kindly eye, Receive it as Queen from us, Since it is woven of words, fitting for thee, Mother of the Word; And while thou receivest the gift of the servant dedicating it, Cherish him, and freely instill in him confidence, That ^B he may splendidly deck thee with flowers.

PROGRAMMA (PRELUDE)

This crown, woven for thee from an undefiled Meadow, I bring adorned, O Lady, A foreign utterance, yet very fitting for thee; For all things are slaves, and those of strangers too. The meadow of words, nurturing the plants of Eden, Blooming with many and diverse flowers, Whose beautiful season time does not wither, Nor does any other manner destroy its grace; But it ever blooms and shines more Than the roses just now brightly springing forth. From there were these also plucked for us, For those now deemed worthy to cultivate it. From there was this wreath intertwined, Not worthily indeed (for not even this entire thing Is worthy of thee), but worthily of the longing Which brought all its strength here, In what it had, desiring to honor the most precious one. But do thou, looking upon it benevolently for me, Receive as Queen a crown from us, As Mother of the Word, that which comes from words, Having laid hold of the servile hand. Guide it toward thee, and grant boldness, That it may brightly crown thee with what it carries, a crown.

SERMON ON THE DORMITION OF THE HOLY MOTHER OF GOD

^A Therefore, deign to accept the gift from a worthy right hand, And do thou thyself deck thyself becomingly with this garland; Nay, rather, O Virgin, grant a new grace to the gift, While thou shieldest thyself with the crown appointed for thee. And as for us, who honor thee only with words, Do thou in turn, by all means, honor us more with deeds; And those who dwell here as neighbors to thy house, And those near to thy house there on high— Which the choirs of angels surround, Which the whole order of those above worships— May we obtain this as a recompense for our longing and our word, And the crown of glory from thee; Even though these things are greater than our power to hope for.

^B 1. After the Word comes the word concerning the Mother of the Word. For having escorted the King to the Queen, it interchanges glory with glory, and passes from virtue to virtue. Thus it delights in the abundance of good things, and rejoices so greatly, pluming itself upon the richness of its themes.

Now, Christ is our feast, the feast of all the ages; yesterday’s feast was also a feast, an illumination, and a fountain of eternal light, and Light itself. For this reason, having put on light as a garment—the garment which He puts on by His very nature—and having shone upon His face like the sun, He struck us with lightning bolts from the holy mountain, and because we could not bear the sight, He passed by quickly. Or rather, He is always with us according to His promise, and He shines for those who are worthy even now, though according to [each one's] worth and more temperately.

^C 2. But today’s day celebrates the mystery of the Mother of Christ, a great mystery after a great one, and a splendid one after a splendid one; and great public joy, being the greatest, overtakes the preceding joy of all. Thus, in every way, Goodness itself acts kindly toward us, and adds grace upon grace in due season. For divine Wisdom knows how to comfort the fickleness of human infirmity wisely, so that, just as those with poor appetites are revived by the presentation of expensive and varied dishes to restore their failing desire, and, flourishing in their zeal, we may meet the enjoyment of what is useful as often as it is necessary.

^D 3. But the things at hand stir in me a warmer emotion, and I cannot easily bear the overflowing joy, and I seek words worthy of the miracle. I shall therefore cry out something bright and ringing, and I shall proclaim the grace of this day with a lofty message.

^A Today we celebrate the Dormition of the Mother of God, the Deposition of the Mother of God, the Resurrection of the Mother of God, her ascension and exaltation; and it is a miracle further that she who is Mother is also Daughter, and that she who is Bride is also Virgin, and that she who is Bride is Virgin again, and through all things Queen, and before all things Handmaid, and a varied and many-titled plenitude of divine graces.

IV. Now her life is lifted up from this earth; and towards heaven she is raised, who is the mystery of the heavens, the stupor of the angels, the strength of men, the nobility of her race, the boldness of Christians, a good incomparably greater than any good; and leaving this mortal world to the mortals, she herself migrates to the Life whom she brought forth.

^B He indeed greets his Mother liberally with his right hand, and embraces her kindly. And so He, who ineffably holds every breath in his hand, descends to her again, not as before to fix his seat in her, but, I might almost say, to lead her out of her seat, or rather to lead her to a seat that is more appropriate, and to transfer her from hence to be with himself—she who without defilement carried Him when He had emptied himself. For this reason He is present; and He brings with Him an angelic and heavenly host; accompanied by whom He ascends again, taking with Him her who bore Him, and paying back a huge loan for a huge interest: regeneration for generation, and for human flesh, deification.

V. This is the sum of this our solemnity; this is the token of our present festival. Who would not rejoice at these things, and have his soul gradually winged, and his body made light and uplifted, and his whole self carried on high? To whose eyes such a spectacle is set, and he is not drawn upward, and does not despise all other things, and is not rapt to this one thing? What pleasure is sweeter? What delights are more potent? What other joy is more pleasant than this sort of hilarity? Where God is present, and at the same time the chorus of angels stands by, and the apostles perform their sacred ministry, and the Mother of God is heaped with honors—for whose sake all these things are, and whose splendors they celebrate with a shining plaudit? ^C

^A VI. But what unexpected thought is this that stands before me! For since such a procession has already been prepared for the Mother of God by such an assembly, what place will be granted there to us, the least of all, for the honoring of our common Lady? And who of us is worthy to cast even an eye upon such a divine theater, or to enjoy even briefly for a short hour the beauty of these sights? Has not a tremble seized you? Have we not, as the proverb goes, arrived after the feast, and though present, do we stand apart from the festival, devoid of its grace? And is it not even more serious that, being unworthy, we should remain so?

^B But take heart, I pray you; for the dismay is in vain, and this fear is not opportune. For who is she, and whence comes she, to whom this strange honor and an incomparable glory are offered? Is it not from us humans? It is from us indeed; and although she transcends human condition, yet she is human. And what of Him who has elevated her to such glory? Did He not Himself, because of His compassion, become a human like us through her, He who even before her existed eternally, being fundamentally superior to this nature of ours, beyond what can be expressed? This is manifest. Therefore, we must by no means be deprived of the participation in this good. For the closeness resulting from our common lineage provides this very opportunity; moreover, we possess a nature that is not in conflict, but rather entirely in harmony.

^C Would that we might also maintain our manner of life with an equal nobility! For if we were to carry ourselves with such composed behavior, the whole matter would turn into a certain wondrous happiness, and soon we would no longer be mere humans, but would mix ourselves with confidence among the angels. For the matter here is not judged by the nobility of natures, but there is an equal right for all to participate in the joy; or, better said, an equal honor of the natures themselves arises from this, because of Him who, through such a sublime Mother, became like us and divinely joined earthly things to heavenly things.

^D VII. Since, therefore, for these reasons we have been rendered worthy to be participants of such a wondrous spectacle—for it is for this same reason that we have gathered into this assembly—let us honor the Virgin with pure minds, the Mother with sincere affection, the Bride with magnificence, she who shines gloriously with glory, the one who is superior to all earthly things; let us honor her not with earthly praises: let us perform sacred rites that are worthy of the pure, let us reverently perform our service to the Lady and splendidly to the Queen. Let nothing that is not pure be offered to the all-holy one; let nothing that is of the lower order be offered to her who is higher than the heavens; let all things be most excellent.

^A And let all things be magnificent, and honorable, and fitting for such a procession and festival. I, for my part, shall sing the songs of departure for our Lady; but you, one after another, joining in succession, offer your acclamations, and each according to his ability, bringing your own offering, duly complete for me the holy celebration of this festival. It will not be amiss, however, to take the beginning of our discourse from a little higher up, that I may derive the praises of the Theotokos from the divine birth, and make a noble beginning for a noble subject.

VIII. There was a time when world was set against world in estrangement and hostility: this visible world against the invisible, the corruptible against the incorrupt, the fleeting against the firmly abiding, and creatures were impiously rebellious against their own Creator. And the one, as was fitting, revered its own Maker and rendered Him glory and honor; the other, through sluggishness of soul, turning away from Him who is, was led off toward those things which are not; and foolishly embraced its enemies as benefactors, and through carelessness clung to error as if it were truth. Hence, this noble work of God became a plaything for destructive demons; and that which was made in the image of the Archetype was trampled underfoot in contempt of Him; and he who was made a little lower than the angels ^B was compared to the brute beasts.

IX. From this point, the bowels of the One who knows no passion are stirred; and the passion was pity for His creation, and benevolence toward man. Hence that ancient and true counsel, and the set time for rendering aid, was determined. Yet the very method of this succor flew far beyond the bounds of nature, and how admirable it was! After all other means had proved of no avail, He Himself, who bears all things by the word of His power, undertakes this struggle; and the God of men becomes man for the sake of men; and He who exalts the humble, humbles Himself; and He undertakes the wrestling match against the adversary on equal footing with us who are falling. For what if, by a mere nod from heaven, He had destroyed the enemy from on high, remaining securely in the height of His own throne, and sustaining no labor or danger in the conflict? What indeed would have been great in having that fugitive, wicked, and ungrateful servant brought under the subjection of God ^C and led away captive by a powerful Lord? That would have been easier, rather, than it was wondrous, and would have been a matter to be ascribed more to divine power than to His charity toward men. But He, preferring my glory in a certain way to His own dignity ^D (O depth of the compassion of God, O kindness...

^A of the abyss! O ocean of goodness!), put on my earthly form, so that, by filling my weakness with His own power, He might Himself through Himself strike down the strong one, and by delivering to the flesh—which of old had received defeat into its nature—an unsuspected victory, He might set up the trophy of this rather than His own; and thus, by removing the middle wall, and in that flesh destroying the enmity, He might join together things that were separated, and bring the whole into one concord. This is the reason for the quickness of the Word; this is the mystery of the great emptying of God. ^B

X. Furthermore, since a divine birth was needed for this divine incarnation, and a mother worthy of such a birth was required for such a generation; behold that great gift, that pre-eminent fruit of this human race of ours, this common glory of nature, this singular miracle among men, the most beautiful of all things that are in the world, who was at that time a pure and untouched maiden, and afterwards a mother, and much purer, inasmuch as she adorned her purity through that very birth with a purity incomparably more splendid. For that mother, who existed as the Mother of the Father of all, was not a mother according to the manner of common mothers; nor was that Virgin like other virgins, she who gave birth to the sanctifying power; but neither was one without the participation of the other, but rather both things ^C were present, and even both in a highly pre-eminent manner. She was a Virgin, but not unfruitful, nor lacking in that blessing which is bestowed upon mothers; and what is even more novel, she brings forth not another individual among us, but Him Himself, who grants to those who bear children to bring them forth with blessings. For He Himself was the first, who after the salutation of joy entered the holy womb, and having readily dissolved by the joy announced to the Mother the curse laid upon our first parents, and having addressed her as blessed by the voice of the angel, and having called her full of grace—who was already such even before ^D this, and immediately was to be so in even greater abundance—He poured out blessing upon the whole race immediately after her and through her. She was a mother, but one undefiled and in no way subject to nuptial laws, and free from the sorrows to which others are subject by reason of birth. And when, by this new conjunction of things opposed to each other, the Begotten makes the one who bore Him wondrous, then the one who bears, by the very fact of the birth, renders testimony to the double nature of the Begotten.

^A XI. And indeed, then, He is born who was from the beginning, and while He assumes what He was not, He preserves what He was; and He remains, in turn, no less the God existing before the ages, while also being the newly created man; he is entirely both this and that, perfect by nature in both, and in each of them perfect; united indeed without confusion into one hypostasis, yet distinguished by the wills and properties of the natures. For it was fitting that He who is the God of wonders should also make His own works altogether wondrous; and not merely that they should display harmony through their concord, or that they should present a novelty through the diversity of themselves, but that they should further appear, in some wondrous way, as opposites and adversaries to each other.

^B Therefore He has a double birth, and He has a double nature: and in both, one part is that which exceeds the order of this world and all time; but the other is that which is subject to worldly laws and to time. For this truly follows therefrom: that in so far as He is from eternity, He has no mother; for what mother could there be there for Him who founded the ages? And in so far as He is born in time, He is without a father; for how could there be a father for Him on earth, who has this One only in the heavens? And who is the man of that undefiled and most immaculate Virgin, who might have contributed anything from himself to that ineffable generation? But you, from this point, observe the inverse logic of the matter: He is therefore alone without a mother, who is also without a father; and again, He is alone without a father, who is also without a mother; for both require the same power, or rather, I should say, the same One Himself is both.

^C XII. There is one God there, but not one in the same simple manner as there are three; and yet the three are one, since there is one again, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, which is the blessed Trinity. From the eternal Father is the eternal Son, who now, begotten of such a Mother, is subject to a beginning of existence. But as to that which contains and governs all things with supreme power, the nature is altogether one, one the will, the action, the energy, the virtue, the substance, the divinity; and in other respects it is a certain simplicity, altogether monadic and one, and only triple with regard to the hypostases and the properties which reside within them. Thus far, therefore, there is one God there, and nothing but equality; but as regards that which pertains to the other, you see how it has both dissimilarities and at the same time falls back into the same. ^D For now He is no longer seen as simple, since He is also man. He is therefore twofold as far as the natures are concerned; yet He is one with regard to the hypostasis: which indeed acts in an inverse and other way. Thus the mystery of the dispensation, being more sublime than any more excellent reasoning, relates to the logic of the divinity both according to that in which it agrees, and according to that in which it differs, so that it both demonstrates that it is immutable, and plainly exhibits that which has been assumed, and furthermore, through the composition of the natures, fills up most wisely, in its own unity, the richness of the whole divinity concerning the persons.

^A

XIII. But this is enough for me of these things now; and to these, which belong to the Son of God—who is both Son and God—are connected also those things which pertain to the Mother. And indeed, insofar as He was later made man, she who bore Him is also a mother; insofar however as He is also God, she is none the less a virgin, and such she remains no less even after the birth. The one belongs to [His] plenitude, the other to [His] emptying; ^B and the one, as being of God alone, is entirely divine; the other, as being also of man, is human. What could be more consonant with this, or more fitting for God, or more delightful to the Mother?

XIV. Furthermore, He who in this second form was born of a worthy Mother by that birth which is more excellent, and at the same time similar to our own, was, according to the evangelical oracle, obedient to His parents; that is, to her who according to nature and at once above nature gave birth to Him, and to him who, by a certain relation—namely, if you will, by adoption, but in no wise by nature—was father to the same. For the spouse was likewise considered the father of the newborn, as being the husband of Mary. Both, therefore, were parents, yet not both in the same way; ^C from whom He also receives the name of Savior, which had been revealed to them divinely by the angel even before the conception.

Then He is presented to the Lord as a holy firstborn. O the offering of the fruit, which exceeds nature! God is given to God, and the Son to the Father, a gift most magnificent above all, and most appropriate. He who fills all things is carried by them through flight into Egypt, and, once summoned, is brought back again from Egypt; and shortly after, when He tarried in the temple, He is sought; to whom in their presence He answers freely, saying, "I must be about my true Father's business, not in those things of the supposed father." ^D Furthermore, for the sake of the Mother, He grants the miracle at the wedding, forcing the water into wine by the power of words alone; and both by such subjection towards His parents until reaching full maturity, and by the beginning of performing signs for their sake, He openly prescribed for us the honor to be rendered to parents.

XV. Moreover, when Christ had made the beginning of His miracles from that point, He now directs His labors to the salvation of the world, and preaches the kingdom of heaven, and gives Himself over entirely to the acts and deeds that would lead to this, until He had finished the work of His true Father; and having obtained glory through the cross, He raised her also, according to her dignity, to that same glory along with Him; when He again sees the Mother standing nearby, and her soul

^A pierced by the sword of which it had long ago been foretold, He sees her bitterly torn (for what else could a Mother feel at the unprecedented passion of the Only-Begotten?) and offers her solace and provides for her, entrusting the virgin disciple to the virgin, making the one loved by Him as His own to the one who loves Him; and by this means, He arranges that she might spend the remainder of her life joyfully, and the more easily bear this solitude.

Yet the Mother of God, as one would expect, laments her own Dead, and anoints Him with spices, and performs the customary funeral rites, as she can, with the other women. And immediately she sees that beautiful and great and sweet spectacle—Christ Himself, who a little before had been hidden in the tomb, now alive on the third day ^B by the power and might of God—and she recognizes her most beloved Son and embraces the desired One; and she is divided between awe, fear, and joy, contemplating present things with great astonishment, and turning over past things in her heart. And while she experiences a kind of wondrous joy at all these things, a little later she also sees Him taken up into the clouds to the heavens, and she hears the discourse of the angels and their joyful message: that He who had departed would come again in the same way.

XVI. But none of these things were sufficient to soothe the maternal longing ^C of the Mother, who grieved and could not bear the absence of her Son—as much as concerns what is visible—and (would that I could say how great and of what kind a Son, as befits God and is worthy of the Son!) she could not bear His absence. For this reason, she desired to come to Him, and she obtained this promptly from Him, who benevolently, as He was accustomed, granted it. And this very thing that I have said sufficiently proves the translation of that immortal one that followed a little later; which today, celebrating this festival, and the day which has merited to be called holy, we attend with such great honor in this solemn assembly.

XVII. For all the other wonders of the Mother of God are ^D indeed excellent, and most excellent among the excellent. What wonders do I mean? Those that we look upon as miraculous before the birth, during the birth, and after the birth: the seedless conception, the pregnancy free from travail, the birth ignorant of corruption; that fearsome appearance of the angel, that divine and radiant and joyful voice; the truly admirable exultations of John, honoring from the womb Him who was still in the womb; the realization of Elizabeth regarding the dignity of Him who was being honored, and the reverence shown by her towards the one carrying Him,…

^A the angels a little later, the shepherds, the Magi, the manifestations occurring by day and by night, and those occurring in ecstasy; the prophecy of Simeon, the confession of Anna; and in addition to these, or even before them, the things that were as it were her very own, which were given as a gift from above to the holy parents, as she miraculously dissolved her mother's barrenness; for it was necessary, indeed strictly necessary, that a miracle should be preceded by a miracle, and that the fruit of a dead womb should confirm the birth from a virgin—just as she was immediately given back as a gift to the One who gave her, ^B as she was brought to the temple by the hands of the priests, presented in the hallowed inner sanctum, according to an ordinance beyond all belief, receiving there the new bread from heaven, the food of angels, and being raised there—and other things besides, by which God, long in advance, was beautifully purifying her for Himself and preparing her for the reception of the divine holiness itself; nothing of which is found out of harmony in such a mystery, even if there are matters which, being eminent above the common order, go far beyond common reason.

How many are the festivals and sacred celebrations I have for each of these, the root of which is one, most august and noble, namely the divine assumption of human nature, so that man might be advanced to the divine nature! And each of these we receive and send forth according to its own proper time and mystery, no differently than the annual seasons of the world, which in beautiful order grant ^C place to one another and succeed one another, and bestow their own benefits upon us in turn.

XVIII. But the solemnity which is presently being celebrated is the seal and stable fulfillment of all those; it is the last and the first and the greatest of the feasts: last in time and order, but first and supreme if you look at its dignity and excellence.

My spirit is stirred for the present things, and my heart leaps; and it seeks out lofty thoughts and considerations worthy of the magnificence of the miracle. The animate throne of God departs, it is transferred to the heavens; the ark of glory is exalted; the fountain of light ^D migrates to the Light; the treasure of life passes over to Life. And as for the miracles that accompany her departure, how great they are!

XIX. Christ Himself from heaven, bringing with Him the Virtues, both His friends and His servants, which conduct the escort round about, comes down here to meet her; and her who had so often carried Him in her arms, He in turn receives with the highest and genuinely sincere affection of a Son, embracing her; and there occurs a wondrous weaving and harmony of the event. The Master leads.

^A the Lady; the King, the Queen; the Bridegroom, the Bride; the Son, the Mother; the Pure, the Virgin; the Holy, the Holy One; He who is beyond all things, her who is higher than all things. And heaven receives a soul wider than itself, and angels escort her who is more glorious than the angels, and men run together, and apostles, others from other places, having just now appeared all at once, and, if I may speak more aptly, rained down from the air, I know not from whence, upon the earth.

O what a new rainfall! O what winged travelers! O what aerial pedestrians! Who are these who fly like clouds, as Isaiah beautifully questions with us? What is the cause of so surprising and new an event? Whence come men unto us from the clouds? How is so great a terrestrial army from heaven? For not only did Elijah traverse the air here in this manner; nor is Habakkuk alone caught up upon a cloud; nor is Paul alone snatched from earth to the third heaven; but from heaven to earth He is present here together with many others; for this greater mystery required a larger assembly of ministers.

XX. ^C When she had therefore entrusted herself sweetly to the hands of the Lord and her Son, she is brought in apparel, according to the ancient oracle of her kinsman concerning her, clothed and adorned in gold-wrought garments, to the royal throne, and the Queen, standing at the right hand of the King, and participant of eternal blessedness together with Him, takes possession of the glory and kingdom due to her.

But they indeed do not consign what belongs to the funeral to oblivion, and they turn their cares to that immaculate body, noble as the dwelling-place of God. O dire outrage! For how is it not a matter worthy of lamentation? O injury not to be borne, that death should have held the first-fruits of life, and that the sepulcher should have possessed her who emptied the sepulchers by her life-giving child-bearing!

But let no one fear these things, nor let anyone be anxious about the danger. For new things align with new, and paradoxes befall those things that are always paradoxical. For [He] did not bear... ^D

to keep on the earth what was heavenly; nor did corruption invade what was immaculate. And this, therefore, quickly follows her from behind, and the body of the entirely immaculate soul clings to the footsteps, which is itself entirely incorrupt, and is carried up with equal honor by those illustrious satellites to the same rest and blessed portion as she. Nevertheless, for the time being, as it was committed to death by the law of nature, it is carried to the sepulcher, raised up by the hands of the apostles and priests, and celebrated with holy tongues and voices.

^B XXI. Why then, O profane man, are you here among the holy ones, so that I should turn even briefly to you in passing? How have you so far departed from your own senses that, with impure eyes and impure hands, you dared to touch these things that are by no means to be touched, and attempted that most dreadful act, to offer insult to things unapproachable? For do you not have it in your power to hear, if nothing else, what your ancestors suffered because of their rashness, as Uzzah did? And what was that type among the things seen? For even though it was an ark, the work of human hands, that was being transported there, and its touching was clearly for the salvation of the holy ones, yet death was the reward of that ministry. For it was necessary that it be touched by the pure, and it did not redound to honor that the impure should touch it; for they say that good is not good unless it is done well. And this is the truth of the matter for you now.

^C XXII. For that which is now being escorted, this indissoluble and unmanufactured tabernacle, contains no stone tablets within, nor does it carry a staff teeming with miracles; but, what is much nobler, it is a holy temple of Him who both gave those things and worked wonders; whom not even a mountain can endure if He descends upon it for a brief hour, but it smokes at the mere touch. Where [there are] voices sounding terribly and loudly, [and] torches burning with fire...

and lightnings darting about, and a fearful gloom, and thunderbolts, and stones, and many other such terrors, they drive far away even those who are already purified. How then, O uninitiated [or impure], did you have the spirit to lay an insolent hand [upon the sacred things], and hope for this great crime: namely, to shake and overturn the unshaken throne of the King of Glory? With what strength were you empowered, or what pretext of hatred and foolishness do you bring forward, since you did not hesitate to declare war even against God? ^B

XXIII. Indeed, perhaps the corpse, and the couch, and the funereal symbols deceived you, so that you esteemed [this] treasure of immortality no differently than the corpse of any other from the common crowd and your own equals, and from this came that insane and unbridled audacity. But the body is indeed dead; yet, it is a body that cannot be held back, not only by death and the tomb, but also by hands that so audaciously rush upon it. To these, indeed, it is even more fearsome and invincible, inasmuch as it brings upon them the penalty for such rash daring, as you yourself clearly testify by those things which you have justly experienced.

The couch is indeed only a couch; yet, turn your mind to it. For soon it shall appear to you also (as it already appears to me) as far more noble than your own casket, being kept in a far more sacred place, adorned with great honor—both the vestment and the girdle—and revered with religious devotion. I concede, indeed, that perhaps these things are even now mocked by you, since you consider only that which meets the eyes, and are quite unable—in accordance with your law everywhere—to look more deeply. But if you are not yet able, O excellent one, to perceive them even now together with us, not much time shall pass before you see both this girdle and the vestment being religiously carried into the Holy of Holies and honored by all with sacred cult. For how would they not hold the first place before all visible things, which even time has respected, and which the inexorable law of corruption has not dared to touch? ^C

XXIV. Now, therefore, I believe that even you will no longer hesitate for long; but rather that you will immediately and fully agree to what is just, once you have been instructed by that excellent discipline, which I see catching up to you unexpectedly at this moment; so that you yourself may be more obedient toward these things, and that you may appear to many others as a herald of the wonders that have occurred through them, having learned, from what you have suffered, what kind of power it possesses. ^D

^A Having therefore acquired a mind, since you have been struck and, as you yourself testify, have also obtained healing from the one who struck you—for it is His nature to act kindly even toward the ungrateful and the wicked—be, I ask, a wiser spectator of the things that follow. And, transformed beyond hope by an admirable change, observe with us now with reverence both everything else and that leading and most ancient summit of the theologians, to use their own words; ^B how they themselves (the apostles), both God-inspired and composed entirely toward the supernal inspiration, first constitute in the most excellent way the funeral hymns; and how then they hand down this extraordinary ministry to be kept for the future, and how the manner of praising is thus conveniently assigned to all.

XXV. But they, indeed, strive eagerly and labor most fervently upon the ministry incumbent upon each of them, competing to acquire for themselves greater glory from the greater glory bestowed.

Me, ^C however, the vehemence of the wonder of the things that are seen seizes again, and I think I am migrating to heaven along with the Queen, and I seem to myself almost to touch the firmament. Therefore, I ask, receive the sublime voice, as if brought down to you from such a height: *Let the heaven rejoice from above, and let the clouds rain down justice; let the mountains drop cheerfulness, and the hills exultation; let the sea be moved and its fullness, the world and all those who dwell in it; let angels rejoice and men exult*; every mortal race, every immortal one; nature animate ^D at once and inanimate, sensible and intelligible, visible and invisible; and whatever is in the world, and whatever is above the world. For she who restored to all the joy that had departed is herself worthy, before all others, to carry off the first fruits of that same joy.

Come, then, let us rejoice in the author of joy; let us sound the trumpet with sonorous and musical blasts in a brilliant assembly, on this our day of distinction and festival; let us each run together for the common exultation, kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all judges of the earth, young men and virgins, old men with the younger; for the prophetic voice both does this, and with very just right, commands it.

XXVI. But it was opportune that mention of prophecy and the prophets was introduced. Where, then, are those admirable and many foretellings of theirs about present things for me now?

Where are those things long heralded by those who saw what was yet to come? Where, before all others, is David, the king and prophet and, what is greater, the forefather of Christ? Why does he not sing here in person to honor his own daughter, concerning whom he prophesied such great and brilliant things? And why does he not, much more appropriately now, bring forth that ten-stringed psaltery and the melodious cymbals, the choir and the timbrels, and every other musical and delightful instrument with which he often exhorts us to praise God? Why does he not perform here the sweetest harmony of all—far more righteously than when he used to lead before the ark, weaving together a musical performance that was varied, all-embracing, and multisonant, using every kind of melody to move all things—where, from pleasure, he himself danced in rhythm and acknowledged that he was delighting God with his joy? ^B XXVII. And where are the assemblies of the other saints and just men, the sayings of the wise, the riddles, the proverbs, and the dark and difficult words that, before they reached their end, all had one goal, one chapter, one subject—this most celebrated and symbol-laden Virgin? One imagines what concerns her in one way, another in another, and yet no one praises what he has imagined any less, and together with one voice they bring us tidings of universal salvation. But I know well that they are here, though invisibly. And they will be present to rejoice in the fulfillment of their own prophecies, and each with his own voice—or rather, with the voice of the Spirit—to praise together the Cause of all these good things. For it is just that, even as they once celebrated her when she was yet to come, so much more now, when she is present, they should usher her in with the most brilliant praises and applause. XXVIII. Therefore, let our own contribution follow in sequence; for custom demands that we too should add our own tribute. And let no one reproach my speech for its insatiability. For it confesses that it is vanquished by passion because of its longing; and since I desire you yourselves to be thus affected toward the present occasion, I loudly exhort all to join in. Let us follow along: let us lift our voices to the heights; ^C let us clap our hands; let us praise God with a song, who does such wonderful things, glorious and extraordinary, which are past numbering, who looked upon the humility of his handmaid, just as she herself, who is exalted above the cherubim, says. ^D

Iambics to the Most Holy Theotokos

Bridal chamber, table, rod, lampstand, ladder, Couch, ark, cloud, ewe, throne. Adorn me, bridal chamber, feed me, table, Support me, rod, illuminate me, lampstand, Raise me up, ladder, give me rest, couch, Watch over me, ark, shine upon me, cloud, Accept me, ewe, honor me, throne.

^A even she who is higher than the Cherubim, and who has done such great things with her. Let us human beings bless the Mother of the Creator, from whom comes the restoration and re-creation of the creature. The non-deceiving prophecy of this great prophetess agrees with this, since she said that she would be called blessed by all generations. Therefore, she receives the fitting blessing magnificently and worthily, first of all from the immaculate Gospels themselves, which cry out daily to their own Master: Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that you sucked. Then, indeed, as the prediction indicated, she has been called blessed by all generations and will be called blessed unto the ages. ^B Let her therefore be blessed by us also, no less, now, and let the debt owed to her be fulfilled from our current generation without lack. Give her from the fruit of her lips, the wise proverb wisely commands us; but I myself would rather say, from the fruit of her womb; and through every blessing let the blessed Genitrix of the Blessing be celebrated. Let no one be ungrateful toward the benefactress, let no one be a supercilious despiser of the Queen, let no one be indifferent toward the Lady; but all together, men and women, let us come to this public festival with appropriate dignity, and let us all rejoice together in celebrating, rich and poor, high and low, priests and people, monastics and those living in society; as much among those in authority, as among the subjects, as among men, as among women.

^C 29. But in the midst of my speaking, something occurred to me that was unintended, or rather, something that clashes with the order of nature. For here the women vanquish me and claim the right to take precedence, at least in this regard, over us men—to whom both nature and the Creator of nature long ago granted that we should rule over them and hold the primary place in all things; indeed, many rights of the sex seem to be available to them for preference on every side. ^D Nor, in truth, do those women struggle any less among themselves: virgins against mothers, mothers against virgins, and each side contends to claim as their own everything that is held in common. But let us impose a reconciliation upon them toward each other, if it seems good, by rightly using the law of natural authority, and by assigning an equal portion to both; for the one who is honored is not either this or that, but both equally, both virgin and mother, and is an ornament shared equally by all women. And as for us in relation to them, that just and common Lady shall judge in turn, when and how it may be her good pleasure and approval. But for the present...

let us celebrate, let us keep the feast together in love, and simultaneously, let us compete with one another, as well as with them, in beautiful rivalry for equal honor. Let us men be ashamed to appear inferior to women in the highest matters; and let us strive to obtain the primacy of order here, too, by winning the primacy of these things. Be ashamed, mothers, to be surpassed by virgins, to whom you yourselves gifted the pure bridegroom through a pure mother. Be ashamed, virgins, to be left behind by mothers, to whom you gave [the grace] that they should no longer bring forth in pain, through an immaculate Virgin who brought forth and conceived in joy, and was herself both joy and [mother]. For what is set before us is assembly, not a contest, [conducted] in peace.

XXX. But why should I set things out point by point? Or why say more? Now the angels rejoice, ascending and descending upon the Son of man and upon the mother who is human; and they command one another to lift up the gates again—not as before, when they were in doubt and inquiring, "Who is this King of glory?" For it has already been made manifest to them through her that He who descended from there before is the very same who ascended again later; but they inquire of other things from another Scripture with equal amazement: "Who is this that looks forth as the morning dawn, fair as the moon, chosen as the sun?" Now the air is sanctified by the ascent of the saints, and the whole is illuminated and set ablaze with a strange light. Now the heavens, rejoicing, are opened, and the kingdom of God joyfully receives the Queen. Now the things above and the things below dance a rhythmic and harmonious dance together; and this present day of the Mother of God has become a universal festival, stirring all creation to gladness.

XXXI. Moreover, among other things, I also praise the season. For with the sojourn of our Lady among us, the year now comes to its end; just as before, when she entered into the world through birth, the year entered with her and kept her company, so now, as she leaves from here, it departs with her, so that it might fulfill its proper duty of escort, serving and following the movements of the Queen. Now, therefore, it also brings forth its own best and most perfect gifts, with which it gladly rejoices.

^A Most pleasant, indeed, among the seasons of the year is spring (who would gain-say the reason?), both for the varied grace of flowers, and the tender budding of plants, and the beauty of the field, and the greening grass, and the standing corn waving in the fields. And sweet, too, is the ear of corn, now just taking confidence and emerging into the light, like a well-born and graceful infant, as if from the womb of the husk; and the cluster of grapes, already announced, beginning even now to sprout amidst the tender leaves. Yet other excellent things also accompany that beauty, with which that season luxuriates, and it exhilarates the observer—the husbandman—with much hope.

^B But far more excellent than these is the maturity of all fruits and the certain attainment of those things which were promised; which this current season now grants to us. For now the barns receive the grain, the wine-presses the wine, and every suitable place admits the other annual abundance of the year; these are no longer situated in mere hope alone, but are already apprehended by the hands, and we reap the certain result from uncertain expectation. Now, likewise, he who sowed rejoices in the reaping, and he who planted exults, having harvested the fruits of his labors. The Lord has given goodness, and our earth has now brought forth its fruit in its entirety, unless somewhere something exceeds its time, and pays the debt after the appointed day (Ps. LXXXIV, 13).

^C XXXII. Furthermore, while the earth fully receives its own, Heaven also receives its own in proportion—this heavenly and most precious treasure, I say; which, receiving today as its own sweet hope, the fertility of this created universe, the preeminent fruit of this world, it rejoices with joy, and stores these riches not in pillage-prone storehouses, but deposits this blessedness in the most inner recesses. And at a reasonable time, after the dispensation is finished in its work and she has herself offered her wondrous ministry to the mystery of Christ, it harvests it, observing the likewise fitting season of the year—during summer, since summer is the most abundant and is the bringer of crops—and having harvested it and transferred it hence to its own proper seat of tranquility, ^D yet it does not entirely take her away from us, nor, however much it may remove her, does she depart altogether from those things which pertain to us. For she still even now takes care of these earthly things; she moderates and promotes and preserves our affairs; her work and gift is the happy government of the republic, the peace of the whole earth, the concord of the Churches, the power of scepters, the good fortune of the armies, the provision of all the good things we possess-

^A of her goodness toward us, for at all times and in all ways she renders propitious to us both her own Son and the Father of mercies; and she provides and will provide all these things to us from him; for even the future shines more brightly upon the present, through her, for the sake of bestowing benefits—as one might say—on account of the insatiable and tireless beneficence and of this benefactress of our common good, of all of whom she is the mistress. ^B XXXIII. This is our parting salutation to you, O Lady; let these be the honors for you as you depart, since you have acted well toward our nature; since you have poured salvation upon us all; since you have given birth to Life; since you have rained down joy upon the human race. Blessed be the gifts flowing from you, by which we have been made rich; blessed be those many graces by which we have been gloriously crowned. No longer are we subject to the condemnation of our first parents; no longer are we liable to the curse and to corruption; death no longer holds dominion over us. Through you, and because of you, and from you, all these things are ours. For you have altogether wiped away every tear from the face of the earth; you have filled creation with every kind of blessing; you have gladdened the heavenly things; you have saved the earthly; you have reconciled the creature; you have rendered the Creator propitious; you have humbled the angels; you have exalted mankind; you have mediated by yourself between the supernal and these lowest things; you have transformed all things for the better in a wonderful way. Many daughters and many mothers have achieved virtue; but you in truth have prevailed and surpassed them all.

^C

and guiding all [the commonwealth] that is subject to it with your own sublime hand, ruling it prosperously, and before all things establishing the state in safety; and if any adverse thing, if any thing unexpected should by any means threaten, you yourself, after your own fashion, which you know and are accustomed to, resolve the danger, and turn aside whatever causes disturbance, without loss and without harm; so that to us who have, by your grace, obtained secure tranquility on all sides, it may be granted always to magnify and glorify you, who in such an admirable manner have magnified our race; for all glory becomes you and your offspring, together with the Father and the Spirit, now and unto the ages. Amen. ^B (a) These things could cast no light suspicion that this final part of the sermon is an addition; for the city of the Euchaitae, which our John ruled, was nowhere known as a great and everywhere celebrated wonder, nor is there need of much persuasion to believe that in this place the city of Constantinople is meant throughout. However, the Laurentian codex, from which all these things are absent, seems to add great force to this suspicion. But the strength of this argument fails if you examine the nature of both codices. For the Laurentian presents a homiliary in which are seen many sermons of various authors collected for the use of a certain Church; the Vatican, however, exhibits nothing but a collection of the little works of our John, namely poems, epistles, and homilies. It is manifest, moreover, that the suspicion of interpolation ^C falls more easily into the homiliaries of any Church, from which those things that are less relevant are pruned away, than into a codex into which the works of a certain writer have been aptly collected together. Added to this is the fact that, if credence is to be given to those things which I myself have seen noted by the most illustrious man Angelo Mai, the Vatican codex must be said to be contemporary with the author himself: from which it follows that an interpolation of this kind seems less likely. But as for those things which argue that the homily was delivered in the royal city, and not in the town of the Euchaitae, they can be held to be genuine if one thinks that John did not deliver this oration in his own Church, but in the city of Constantinople, when he happened to be staying there. And in point of fact, that John resided in Constantinople and possessed great authority there, we have implied in the Preface.

THE IAMBIC VERSES OF JOHN, METROPOLITAN OF EUCHAITA, ON THE HISTORIES OF THE PRINCIPAL FEASTS PAINTED ON PANELS, AND OTHER VARIOUS WORKS, EDITED BY MATTHEW BUST, OF ETON, PUBLISHED IN LIGHT

TO THE MOST REVEREND FATHER IN CHRIST AND LORD, THE LORD RICHARD, ARCHBISHOP OF ALL ENGLAND, PRIMATE AND METROPOLITAN.

Because in that most praiseworthy republic of the Athenians (most reverend lord) the sojourners were held to do this by the prescription of the law, I understand that the same has long held true in literary matters, that a patron must be sought as soon as possible for this foreigner and exile. For it has never pleased me to suppress entirely such an elegant little book to the great injury of the author and of men of letters, nor to bring it into the light in such a way that, as a stolen citizen, it might have to bear the penalty of ἀστασίου. And since I desire that the interests of this writer be best consulted, it does not please me to act rashly and without any choice in finding a patron for him. A certain Sacas among Xenophon, while he studies to enter into the favor of some man of proven virtue, [gives] a horse of exceptional goodness, and very recently [one of] the course

which a sod of earth, cast at random with half-closed eyes into the densest throng of soldiers, might strike. That was indeed a doubtful lot, and full of peril, which however did not deceive the man, inasmuch as Cyrus had turned him toward that part of his army into which, had he shot even with his eyes closed, he could not have missed, being a brave man. If I, in like manner, were willing to test the hazard of fortune (especially given the amazing scarcity of those who from the heart care for and embrace these things), and were to choose such a patron for this newcomer as chance might offer, it would seem to be a danger that he might obtain a hospitality no safer than the swallow, which Archias in the Greek epigram represents as nesting under the statue of Medea, and counting on her humanity toward strangers there, where such great inhumanity toward her own household ^A and kin had existed. But if I should wish to think even a little about the matter, it will not be difficult to discern to whom I ought especially to dedicate this, whatever it is, of ancient work. For you, most reverend Father, who now prudently looking out for the public good of the Church, "bearing a burden upon your shoulders that is not light," you, I say, immediately occur to me and present yourself to my mind; to whom, since Gregory most recently, as he ought, resorted, it is truly equitable that this our Johannes, who once belonged to the diocese of Constantinople, and now comes forth printed in the same type, should accompany the Patriarch of Constantinople, his master, and studiously observe his footsteps. That he might conveniently do this, he has long since seemed to desire most marvelously to beseech you humbly, and under the auspices of your name, to emerge into the public view: and having now completed a month, as it were, after the finished Gregory, in the space of time, as if gnawed by too long delays under the press, now at last "breaking his bonds, he bounds over the plains," and with a taut course is carried toward his Gregory. And let him indeed be carried, and with a zeal as intense and unbridled as he might wish, provided that first he may bear witness to himself and his own grateful heart regarding Lord Henry Savile, a man most illustrious and born to propagate letters, to whom alone it seems owing that this poor wretch did not have to fall asleep perpetually in darkness. For there was never any hope that he would obtain this favor ^B from those among us who stand in charge of this work, most of whom are not caught by the artifice of the Greek man, but rather embrace those things which may seem more suited to the shop of Mercury than to the temple of Saturn. Although, it was never necessary for him to desire so vehemently that he should be published in print, seeing that they lie open even to most idle writings of the vainest of men, nor did he think it as pleasant to look upon the light after long darkness as it was honorable and glorious to be joined in the fellowship of birth with these holy Fathers. In this indeed he especially exults and triumphs in earnest, and, since Chrysostom is to come forth into the public after some time, he desires to run before him in an official capacity, and, with poems already long since composed in his honor, to strew the paths as it were with certain garlands and flowers. This high honor he attributes to that noble man, by whose kindness it happens that he is graced by this noble press. If indeed he could address him with a human voice, he would without doubt break out into those lines of the tragic poet: "I rejoice, Greece, in you, and Greece rejoices in you." For all other ornaments that can fall upon him he will owe to your most reverend paternity. For this man, coming humbly to seek your patronage, unknown as he is, you will not, I hope, spurn, nor allow him to be torn away from his Gregory, who to this our Johannes has always seemed "as if speaking from heaven." For so he speaks himself in a certain oration which Lord Savile keeps in his library, which one day will see the light. And indeed I would have judged him worthy of your patronage for the sole name of such piety: not that I have ever believed this little "iambic-writer" to be one who could walk with equal pace with the supreme lights of the Church; for ^C what could be more foolish than such arrogance? Nay, indeed, may it be far from me to arrogate to myself the power of defining how much is to be attributed to this man, or in what class he must finally be counted. Let it be permitted to others with impunity "to make themselves judges of the Greeks instead of spectators," or rather let "those who are trained in the language of Greece" pass judgment. But although I could easily believe it possible that he whom I highly approve might not be equally pleasing to them; "for among the wise, the base appear more musical to the crowd," (as Euripides beautifully says in the Hippolytus), yet I trust that even by their reckoning he will be approved. And indeed, that they might be able to look upon him with less disdain, I judged that he should be struck off in Greek only: nor did I endure to bind the bloodless and putrid cadaver of a Latin version to the animated and vivid Greek poet, after the manner of the Virgilian Mezentius: which indeed, while some do, especially among the poets, there is reason to fear lest, as one of the ancients, when he believed that fire for the burning of the dead was polluted, is reported, having been gravely moved, to have called upon Prometheus to bring aid, that he might steal back for mortals (if he could) the fire he had stolen from heaven by an equal theft: similarly there might exist someone who might soon wish to cry out against the inventor of typography, that he might reclaim for himself this benefit of his, transferred to unworthy uses, and at least withdraw it for a time. But for me, I believed that this sole task was given, that I should produce my book, most ^D encumbered and by far the most depraved, cleaned, as far as possible, of its faults: in which, if I have proven my efforts to you (most reverend arch-prelate), I shall consider that I have most fully performed this whole task, and have reaped the most abundant fruits of my labor. But I perceive that I have been just a little too long; wherefore, what alone remains, I beseech God, the best and greatest, that He may deign to grant you, safe for His Church, for as long as possible. To your most Reverend Paternity, most devoted, MATTHAEUS BUST.

IAMBIC VERSES. TO THE BENEVOLENT READER. GREETINGS.

You will not expect, friendly reader, that I should praise the elegance of this little book in words: for if it were stripped of its own native beauty, perhaps it would not unwillingly admit the allure of verbiage, and, like subdolous merchandise, would offer itself for sale without much trouble. But this work, content with itself, spurns artifice and promises all auspicious things to the candid reader, if only it may emerge into the public, cleansed of the filth in which it has lain wretchedly deformed for so many centuries, and in as emended a state as possible. I confess that I have labored at this task, though I dare not say that I have accomplished what I desired. For what Menelaus says in Euripides’ *Orestes*, the same I may rightfully sing to this John of ours: "...for it is not easy with one spear to ward off the blows of evils that are upon you." Nor was it for me to expect that through the benefit of one and the same most depraved manuscript all the blemishes found therein would be thoroughly washed away. It will surely be enough if very few remain that seem to require the aid of another copy: which, indeed, the outcome itself (I hope) will prove. This, certainly, I do profess: that I have sedulously taken care not to inflict any wound through critical meddlesomeness; for I did not think it should be permitted that I depart from the exemplar, unless the necessity itself demanded it. I have wearied of noting the manifest and crass errors of the copyist, which were quite numerous in this very small booklet. The others, concerning which one might rightfully be in doubt, I have not had the heart to move from their place. That, however, of which I chiefly wish to advise you is this one thing. Know that the order which I found in the manuscript codex has been by me completely unchanged, or rather, that all things which were previously very confused have been reduced into this order which you see (a). For I did not wish, in a matter so well-examined, either to distrust my own judgment or to fear that I could not justify this action of mine to you. The numbers placed in the margin indicate the place which each verse occupied in the manuscript codex: I well know you are surprised that their sequence is so often interrupted: but so that you might not in vain tire and vex yourself in investigating their order, it has seemed best to resolve the whole matter in this way. As often as you notice the order of the numbers is interrupted, return immediately to the notes that correspond to that page, for there you have the designated place where, without greater trouble, you will find those things which followed next in the exemplar. I found all things arranged in this sequence in the manuscript codex; and if this is able to please any learned man or to provide some convenient sense, I do not say the reason, lest I be found guilty by all literary men of "extemporizing upon the commentaries of the Greeks." For you will see eight huge lacunae; all of which, in my codex, were not far from the middle of the page, marked neither by an asterisk nor any other sign, but manifest enough by the mutilation of the sense. For most of them leave the reader hanging in the middle of a period, and suddenly cast him into the middle of another period utterly foreign to the first. I conjecture that the origin of such great confusion existed in another prior manuscript codex: in which, indeed, all the pages, except the first and the last, seem to have been confused and bound in preposterous order. Hence, while I know not what unskilled copyist was describing this codex of mine, and did not attribute to each page the same number of verses that the copies had, he cast these shadows upon me, by which, having been surely overwhelmed for a time, I deemed this writer hopeless: at length, however, aided by divine grace, I dispelled them, and perceived that the members of this little book, so miserably torn apart, were to be arranged in this manner. Of these things I thought it proper to warn you, my Reader: do you favor our efforts, and farewell. From the Royal College, Cambridge.

(a) In the Imperial codex, which Lambecius (Commentary on the Imperial Library, lib. p. 1, 149) describes, one may behold that same perturbation of order which Bustus laments in his own codex and endeavored to emend with all his might. Whence it appears that both have been derived from the same archetype; and that the exemplar of Lambecius, to wit, and that of Bustus, or that of one of them, is a transcript of the other.

ON THE GREAT TABLES OF THE FEASTS AS A PICTORIAL EXPRESSION: A COMMENTARY BY JOHN, MOST HOLY METROPOLITAN OF THE EUCHAITAE, IN IAMBIC VERSES.

PROGRAMME FOR THE WHOLE BOOK

Having long ago been taught that measure is best in all things, I act with moderation in all else, and in my speech as well. For to be redundant is, as they say, for the redundant.

NOTES BY MATTHAEUS BUSTUS

Regarding the author himself, very little occurs that calls for mention, seeing that there is a deep silence about him everywhere, and neither Gesner nor the others who have compiled libraries for us seem ever to have heard of him by name. On the frontispiece of my own manuscript I found these lines, written with the highest skill, yet I shall not guarantee the Hellenism of them.

^BHe lived under the emperor of the Romans, Constantine Monomachus, and the empress Zoe. From that time until now ^C the years extend to five hundred and sixty-four. Since he excelled above all in wisdom and the holiness of life, he composed several orations and epistles, and iambic verses, and many other things worthy of praise and dear to the heart; furthermore, he piously instructed many people, being filled with the grace of the Holy Spirit. Truly, these things do not seem to have been taken from anywhere else than from this very book.

(1) This little book is held in higher esteem for its noble quality than for its size, in which he adorns the histories of the more solemn feasts, depicted in tables with pigments that will last for an age, and [which are]...

(a) As is evident from the calculation of the years, this eulogy is not ancient; indeed, the Rollandians (*In Comm. de tribus Dorotheis*, June, Vol. I, p. 504) opine that its author was Andreas Darmarius the Epidaurian, who is also noted there as the copyist of the codex. Matthaeus Bustus says he assumes that all these things seem to be taken from nowhere else than from this very book (that is, from the iambic verses); for, he says, they immediately strike the eye while reading. But it is not necessary that we embrace this conjecture of Bustus, and think that those praises of John rely solely on the testimony of his own poems. For we read these same things in the Menæa of the Greeks, and indeed I find them in that Venetian edition of the Menæa, which, since it was produced in the year 1551, clearly precedes the era of the eulogy written in the codex of Andreas Darmarius. While in these it is recounted (on the 30th day of January in the Synaxarion) what occasion and reason impelled [the Church] to honor together the holy doctors Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzus, and John Chrysostom on the 30th day of January, you find John of Euchaita—to whom it is said the three holy doctors appeared—highly commended for his universal learning and the eminence of his virtue.

To John, illustrious man and holy bishop of the city of the Euchaitae—celebrated both for other things and for his Greek studies, as his writings bear witness, being not unlearned and advanced to the sublime height of virtues—those supreme ones (the three holy doctors) presented themselves to be seen, not in a dream but in a vision, first indeed each individually, and then truly all together. How great was the estimation and authority that John possessed in the city of Constantinople itself is shown by what is read there as follows: ^D Rising up, that man—John of Euchaita, of course—did just as those blessed ones had instructed him; and when...

he had quelled the dispute between those contending (for he was pre-eminent for the fame of his virtue), he was the author of celebrating this solemnity in honor of God for the Church. I said, moreover, that John was endowed with such authority at Constantinople; for these very words are explicitly set forth in the *Mensa* (loc. cit.) regarding what happened in the city of Constantinople under Alexios Komnenos: "Ἐπὶ τῆς βασιλείας Ἀλεξίου τοῦ Κομνηνοῦ, ὃς μετὰ τὸν Βοτανειάτην τὰ σκήπτρα τῆς βασιλείας ἐδέξατο, ἐν Κωνσταντινουπόλει στάσις γέγονε παρὰ τῶν ἐλλογίμων καὶ ἐναρέτων ἀνδρῶν κ. τ. λ." (In the reign of Alexios Komnenos, who received the scepter of the empire after Botaneiates, a dispute arose at Constantinople among men pre-eminent for their learning and virtue, etc.). Added to these things, which is of greater moment, is the encomium of our John, which Le Quien mentions as having been composed by the younger Michael Psellos with this title: *Encomium on the most God-fearing Metropolitan of Euchaita and Protosyncellus*, and he affirms that it is preserved in Reg. codex 1837. It would be worth the effort to transcribe here the few things that Le Quien seems to have collected from that encomium: "This man," says Psellos, "excelled in pastoral duties, so that, although he did not perhaps excel in political or secular science, yet he shone so brightly in eloquence, which approached the style of Isocrates, and especially in Christian philosophy and theology, that he seemed to be another Gregory." (Auth. BALLERINI, Pref. to the homily of the Euchaitan, edited above.)

IAMBIC VERSES

^A to speak of those which I have used in my discourse. For what surplus or what advantage is there in every labor endured by mortals? Even if they puff themselves up greatly in this present life, speaking or writing with insatiability, pouring out measureless showers of words, thundering and lightning from their eloquence. Very great is the height of heaven and the depth of the earth, and the expanse between them is greatest of all. Let them blow forth into the infinite; the space is abundant, no one will straiten this immensity. It has already borne many billows of spirits, and is prepared to bear more, until they breathe their last breath, until they are dissolved into the chaos of darkness, having accomplished nothing ^B save empty toils. But let them do as they desire; for there is no envy.

I, however, selecting these words of mine from many others that are metrical, not immoderate, offer them alone to the friends of discourse as a small taste of fragrant flowers, to bring moderate pleasure to those for whom these might be a delight. But let satiety, drunkenness, and nausea be absent. Having, therefore, these short words of a friend, do you yourselves—rather by works than by long discourses—pray that your friend may be acceptable to all, and especially to the Moderator of all and to the Word, for whom a reckoning at least of works should be held. For He, saving works done with reason, delivers useless words, like hay and timber lacking moisture, to the burning. I, therefore, ^C shall indeed bring works dear to the Word and receive salvation; but as for many words and writings, let others be concerned with them.

UPON THE GREAT TABLES OF THE FEASTS, BY WAY OF EXPOSITION.

I. On the Holy Nativity of Christ.

What is this? Light has shone as if from the ether, and the air is full of musical harmony. Let us draw near, that we may learn. O mystery! ^D A host of angels cries out with a loud voice to God, saying: Glory to Him who is incarnate. And how is God flesh? Where is the prodigy? And whence? Where is the prodigy? Go with the shepherds, who, while they hasten to this, abandon their flocks. Having joined them...

let me be filled with desire. You see a cave, a neglected cave, in which is a manger, and an infant, and a virgin. ^A Brought to light just now. Alas, what do you say to me? There is nothing false, but you learn the truth. And the star is a witness, which you see in the sky, showing you whence the infant came. And these men running together, as to a Master, whose song of praise is also sweet. To sing with them, not to doubt, is fitting for you. For all these things hasten together for your grace. God made man, that He might deify your nature. Poor for your sake, showing you to be rich. Angels applauding with hope. A mother without a husband, a virgin child-bearer, the bright gifts of the Magi, the running of the shepherds, all things full of joy and gladness. With these, then, rejoice, and worship with them, but regarding this downcast elder—for some other secret passion gnaws at him; he will soon, after a short sleep, be freed from this, and will gladly join with us all. ^B

II. On the Holy Baptism of Christ

A man unkempt, fostering a wild shagginess, clothed in camel's hair, and wearing a belt of skin, bodiless, half-naked, a type of an angel, a new prophet comes from the desert. At first, by signaling that Christ is above himself, he manifests Him to all who are gathered. Christ, approaching him, as one known, asks to receive baptism equal to the others. But he, well knowing who this is, and whence, considers the matter a trial, and a test alone. Whence he strongly resists the word. Nevertheless, he yields to the eagerness of the Master. Yet he trembles in his hand, and touches [Him] with difficulty, looking upward, as if he might escape the dizziness, or rather, he sees something else there that is fearful. A dove descends to the earth from on high, which the heavens send forth from the rifts; voice from there like a great parental thunder, calling Christ the beloved Son. And the Spirit testifies, running toward Him, through whom He descended, and upon whom He solemnly rests. He is like a bird of swift-moving nature, for He is like the form of a dove [that is] simpler. And understanding these things, the river also quietly checks the current of its flow, and waits, thus honoring the presence of God, and receiving in turn the lovely purification, that He, having first received the grace Himself, might become the beginning of this mystery. This is the light of mortals, this is the second creation.

^A A gift, and a seal, and a salvation. Angels applaud this, gladly rejoicing with the earthly, as with those who are being deified. I offer many thanks to the One who has been washed; for I have nothing more than this to give in return.

III. On the Holy Transfiguration of Christ.

IV. On the Resurrection of Lazarus.

V. On the Palms.

The other crowd scattered their tunics. Let them sing suppliant hymns, (For the Life-bearer comes to all) As many as wish to receive His grace. But you, O desirable Sion, why open your gates? Within you are filled with Cruel thieves, impious, murderous, Whom not even He who easily raises the dead And conquers Hades can quickly sway. ^B For there is no shame in those who breathe murder, And more so, if some envy inflames them. Yet open, and receive the Master. For He is present, I think, for the sake of suffering, Since He knows, even while suffering, how to escape suffering. There is indeed no fear for us from this. Hosanna then, save us, Blessed One, Coming in so gently, and bringing To all mortals immortality from sufferings.

VI. On the Holy Crucifixion of Christ

VII. On the Theotokos weeping

And if you suffer what is worthy of lamentation, what other hope is there? What consolation? Speak/tell us! And yet, you ought rather to be in good spirits, O good man, since the end is set before you. For to some there is one remedy of salvation, but my mourning is the solution to cosmic mourning.

VIII. On the holy and life-giving Resurrection of Christ. Behold, behold the prodigy of the One buried, while it is visible, before it slips away; lest you later resist the words spoken, wishing to fit the nature of things that are above nature. Therefore, disciple of the mysteries, see also Christ living again. Bravely!—for such diligence! How prompt is the Author of life to resurrection: He was not accustomed to inhabit the tomb as a dead man. Therefore, you see a three-day, not a three-night, resurrection, if indeed He makes his four-day-old friends live. ^A Now, having risen, He draws forth the ancestors with a mighty hand from the ancient tombs. First He raises up that which had fallen long ago; then, this one burdened with old age; after which He raises up the whole of nature, for the sake of which, having descended even to flesh and the tomb, He tramples Death, the man-killing tyrant. But however, as the firstfruits of your race, receive Adam, and David, and wise Solomon, whom Scripture shows to you here as living, as fathers of Him who gives the resurrection. You have, therefore, the men living from the dead, [and] Eve, the mother of all. But these [guards], let them be blinded by fear for the moment, the vain guards, the wretched servants. For the Master strikes them with lightning, ^B so that He may not be seen again by the eyes of the impious. But you, having been deemed worthy of the spectacles you behold, take control: you see your own regeneration. And rejoice, rejoice, this is the Pascha of the Lord.

IX. On the Touching [of Christ]. Christ, O disciples, Christ is here again. Take heart, do not be shaken by this strange sight, nor ^C be afraid of the unseen entry; for no one will see you concealed. But He Himself, having put on an incorruptible nature, has thus escaped the sealed tomb. But what is this? For now, as we know, is this not he who previously spoke with a sweet mouth? How is he bent downwards, struck with amazement? And the hand is numb, and trembling, it falters, hastening to touch the burning side. Manifestly, O curious one, you see Christ, as your present trembling bears witness to you. Now therefore, be convinced, and leaving behind the former words, ^D

^A wonder at and proclaim the Giver of Life.

X. On the holy and saving Ascension of Christ.

XI. On the holy Pentecost.

XII. On Elias being fed by a raven.

XIII. On the history concerning Saint Paul and Chrysostom.

you disturb the noble gathering, and deprive the world of divine discourses. For now, from the third heaven, the ethereal runner Paul comes, bringing them. ^A He moves his hand toward the service of writing. The wonder of the world, the golden mouth! Show zeal, for the rest, for him whom you see before the doors; wonder together with him, and persevere.

XIV. On Saint John Chrysostom. Have you left only the tongue, painter, fearful of the flame? Or, daring all things, do you add the burning element to the sculpture? He speaks indeed, and utters exhortations, but his throat is thin from fasting. The rest is mine; for I did not offer ears. Now, therefore, considering what he might say to me, I shall know. Amazing! He persuades me to despise life.

XV. On Saint Gregory the Theologian. What does your thoughtful look desire, Father? You perhaps force me to say something new. But you would not find it; for he is entirely foreign to men. Your discourses have already revealed him to me.

XVI. On the Great Basil. A venerable pallor from self-restraint becomes the wise teacher. But if he speaks (for he seems to be a model of life), this is delight, joy, and pleasantness. ^B Move your lips, therefore, Father, to discourses that soothe even the rocks; but do not say what you bring about in sympathy while teaching. For these things know how to distress—even if they drip honey—those burdened with wounds, from which is sadness, against which alone you suffice by writing thus.

XVII. On the three together. The Trinity indeed found peers as fellow-soldiers; and faith erected these as defenders here, judging it unworthy and irrational that, while their discourses are present, they are not also present in their images. Whence, depicted, they seem to live and to speak that which the God-written books contain. This reciprocation the well-disposed disciple, the servant John, distributes to the teachers.

XVIII. On Saint Nicholas. I embrace you, I worship you, and I behold you. I embrace you yourself; and this is your body, O man already senior. ^C From the colors it is evident that it is a body. But whether I have presented my discourse, along with my spirit, to you—if you would deign to receive it. My character persuades me to be and to speak thus. ^D

Notes of Matthaeus Bustus

XIX. To Saint Constantine, on the twenty-first of May.

^A Having died to the world, and having lived to God, O Father, You were revealed as living while you departed, and as dead were you found; Yet you cry out while silent, and you roar from the tomb, Having your miraculous deeds [(11)] for a trumpet. Hence, you who were previously unknown to all, Now draw even kings to veneration, Whose work—the grace which crowns the urn (All that is delightful of material, and all that is varied of art—) Bearing, and gladdening those who behold it, Through which you best give [men] to see your intelligible 1005 Glory hidden in God, Until you receive from Him what is worthy.

XX. To the Holy Unmercenaries [(13)].

Behold what is delightful, or full of joy, Like the common dwelling of most beloved brothers! This the present station of them witnesses, According to which they reside together, as they are depicted. Unmercenary is the manner [of life] for the kin, Physicians by art, but miraculous-workers even more; If, then, you wish for the grace, ask for it without fee. For the divine art is near, and it is fortunate.

XXI. On the funeral [(14)] of Chrysostom, and the story concerning Adelphius [(14)].

1015 The old man, seeking to find the angel among mortals, Was weary, and suffered as he longed.

^A Since he saw him as a mortal who had died, And thus borne as a corpse to his burial. But in the heavens he sees the one he desired, Very close to the adorable throne. For this was the place fitting for John, As he was assigned his rank among the Cherubim.

XXII. On the Archangel Michael. Light, spirit, and fire, we know the angels to be, Superior to all density and passion; But he is the commander of the immaterial host. O faith, what wonders you have the power to work! How easily you clothe with form the nature that is without figure! Nevertheless, Scripture shows him depicted, Not as he is by nature, but as he is often seen.

XXIII. On the embrace of Peter and Paul. Relate to me, Paul, about the great Peter. For you say that you came to Sion for his sake. Give also a kiss, the symbol of love, Embracing most sweetly the one you longed for. And embrace also in turn, O Peter, in sincerity, Your persecutor, freed of old from fear, Since you see him thus changed. He is Christ's disciple, and breathes with zeal; But not with threats, as before, and murder. Wherefore, taking him as a fellow-worker, the noble man, Consider a common plan, how you may present ^C the world saved to Christ, and take counsel with him.

XXIV. On the Savior. Having the heavens, O Lord, as your throne, And the earth as your footstool, and filling all things, Here pious faith circumscribes you, Which the heart of the tiller cultivates for you, Who happily can boast of having as a brother The faithful Michael, the new lord of the earth.

XXV. On Saint Paul dictating, and Luke and Timothy standing by and writing. He who bears the living Christ in the midst of his heart Draws from thence the ineffable words, Which, having learned, he considers how to set forth; For he wishes to reveal them to all the worthy. But the capable scribes present, as if they were mystical, ^B write down the words for now. For the sound had not yet gone forth to the whole earth, Though it later filled all creation.

XXVI. Programma for the sermon on the Assumption. ^D I offer to you, O Lady, this wreath woven from a pure meadow, having adorned it. An alien address, yet one very fitting for you; For all things, even those of strangers, are subject to you. The meadow of words, nourishing the plants of Eden, and burgeoning with many and varied flowers,

whose fair season time does not wither, nor does any other manner tarnish its grace; but it is ever-blooming and shines more brightly than roses that have just sprung forth in splendor. From thence these were gathered for us, by those who have now been deemed worthy to cultivate it. From thence this crown was woven, not worthily indeed (for not even all this is worthy of you), but worthily of the jar, which brought all its strength hither, desiring to honor with all it had the one who is beyond honor. But do you, looking favorably upon me, accept from us, as Queen, a crown, and as Mother of the Word, the gift of words; and taking hold of my servile hand, guide it to yourself, and grant ^A boldness, so that you may shine brilliantly, as the crown you bear crowns you. But if the gift is worthy of your right hand, do you yourself fittingly crown yourself with it, or rather, grant grace to the crown itself, which has been deemed worthy to be touched by you. And as for us who honor you only with words, do you in return honor us all the more with deeds, we who dwell here neighboring your house. And station us near your home there, which the choirs of angels attend, which every order of those above worships. May we receive this reward of love and word from you, and the crown of glory—even if these things are greater than what we are able to hope for. ^B

XXVII. Programma to the sermon concerning the Angels.

If I had some greater offering to present to you who bestow riches, I would by no means spare it as a precious thing. Just as I would have brought a gift, dear to the precious, with even greater ardor as something valuable. But I had no other care, and no other love occupied my soul of those things that regard the earth and linger here, except only for words and teachings, which long labors scarcely gathered for me, having you—Arch-generals of the immaterial hosts—as true co-workers. ^C Whence I am sparse and poor in other things; but of this possession I have, accept a fair portion, O attendants of God, and for your cooperation take my gratitude. For this word is offered to you, in place of words, as a gift from a very humble neighbor, which also has your house, a magnificent work, as a neighbor to look upon; and through it, it considers it sees you, who are above mortal sight, altogether lightning-like, manifesting in evidence of your presence, all things round about filled with light. ^D Which, even regarding us who are unworthy, led to this brief sermon according to what had come before. But in place of the word that flows into the air, grant me the living and abiding Word, and show me your heavenly glory, since I desire it more than the earthly one.

XXVIII. On the sermons of the Theologian that are not read.

^A Who was the first to be so bold as to say that these Sermons are not to be read? Who hides the light that shines upon the world in a corner? Who covers the shining stars with a cloud? Who buries glittering pearls in the ground? Alas for an envious and falsely-named calling! If it were a work of universal loss, But now, it is not a work, but a word otherwise. Let the light be seen shining on the lampstand, Let it be set before all, let it shine for all in common, For as many as have the capacity to see more than others. Oh that all might have known these things! Oh that all might attend to these words! For thus would salvation be at hand For all, out of this single book. For I dare say that it alone makes men wise, Sufficing entirely for the instruction of mankind. Full is it of hidden dogmas, Full of divine and wise mysteries, Full of good moral teachings, Full of elegant technical learning, A veritable museum breathing forth knowledge. Having prepared the blameless writing of this, I have set forth for many food that does not fail.

XXIX. Program concerning the laws.

O world, world, container of evils, Full treasury of abundant wickedness, Sea filled with the surging billows of calamities, How much aid you needed, and having obtained cooperation, How late you reach the point of being better than yourself, You have received nothing more toward improvement! O you men who have labored much in vain, And who have cared much for the sake of men, That we might live a life becoming to men! O dogmatists and grave lawgivers, Common consensus of ancestral thoughts, Breath of the people, dignity of the senate, Sentiments of the wise, and laws of kings, Punishers of the base, praisers of the good, Pursuers of vice, protectors of salvation, In whom every mode of providence has been perfected, You indeed passed over nothing that was necessary ^B For the uprightness of our affairs. Time has mastered and obscured it. For it found mortals to be a nature easily worked, But wickedness is unrestrained, Against which all your labors have been rendered ^C Idle and empty for all time. For this wretched thing is not by nature at rest, But always chooses to act rather than to suffer. It is invulnerable to the fears of dogmas, It is uncaught by the snares of writings. But rather, its seat is in the darkness of corners, And its ferocious audacity extends to the ends of the earth.

It knows not how to die nor does it wither with time; nay, time rather strengthens it. Filled with audacity and ferocity, it drags, lacerates, and disturbs life. It drives all things, bears them, and turns them round; it grows into some intractable evil for men. The fruit of these terrors is destruction, for the beast becomes more savage, ^A just as 16 lions do from faint pricks. What, then, is the flight from this intractable calamity? One solution, it seems, for this evil: to flee to another and milder life. But what of it? Alas for evil hopes! For if the seeds that are now destroy my life, what shall be the fruits from those seeds hereafter? Save me, Christ, save me indeed, my Christ, You and Your grace; for where else is there a place? What other hope? What harbor of salvation, if not You, Creator, deliverer of the wayward?

XXX. A poem on the Litittian Gospel.

O incredible and strange spectacles! Once more the Word is flesh, and man is God again! For Christ Himself has come down from above once more, either embodied anew or bearing His original body, not from a chaste virgin as before, nor into Judæa and Palestine; but here, fashioned in a strange and new creation ^B from other colors, not of blood. The proof of the Word from these things is present. For it is possible to see Him working miracles, acting and suffering now as of old, and to hear Him proclaiming clearly, for the salvation of mortals, what He formerly spoke openly to His friends. The wonder is new, for the grace is new. Whence the divinely-spoken book is rejuvenated, although the types of its characters grow old, as if it carries within time Him who is before time. Who, then, will endure to bear such a weight of condescension, ^C who will bear Him who holds the entire creation in His hand, desiring a dwelling-place? For He does not come again as some stranger to strangers, seeking a tiny house from a tiny Zacchæus—as one not having a hole of foxes—but as the manifest Lord of all, untouchable, inaccessible, impassable by nature, filling as the immense One the entire creation. But as God He does these things and greater; yet as flesh, He does not even now disdain a house. Therefore, ^D the Lord receives the Lord into hospitality; He who has the power of the sea and the earth, the maker of heaven and of all things that are below. And no one disputes with the host concerning his gift.

^A For the nature of the inferior yields in grace to the superior, being ready for those who are stronger. But everyone is inferior to the one who rules lawfully, especially when, even if one does not have the gift of fortune, one has grasped the reins from God, as the mighty master Constantine Monomachus, whom envy once took hold of but was then overcome and conquered all the more, when God gave his mighty hand from above, and raised him from dishonor to the greatest glory, even to a bright crown, always acting with him in whatever is right to do, and directing the power along with him—a terror to enemies, a delight to subjects, and a marvel of all life and time. But, O mighty, crowned master, receive him who brings light out of darkness, the one who gave you salvation from necessities, and who raised you to such a height. Receive him also faithfully, and honor him as is worthy, seeing, hearing, worshiping, holding, and bearing both God himself and the fearful words of God, the light of mortals, the food of angels, He who both made you reign and crowned you, and who reigns with you and protects you, ^B and keep him in hospitality along with your friends and your mother, and he himself as your ally and protector, for whom you established trophies and a worthy calling. For all, having run together into one, are with Christ, and they entreat his grace for you; all brighten you, so receive them all. These are a crown for you, pearls, bright stones, adorning the purple as beautifully as possible. These are for you victorious weapons against enemies, with whom you rule and will rule to the end; in whom you shall keep your power fortunate, receiving from them a fair and good reward for your piety even before that which is in expectation.

XXXI. On the golden Crucifixion.

XXXII. Against the one who took exception to the iambic, because of the "for the price of which," as if the preposition were not well placed.

as something to be sold for gold, not marvel at that Thales? These are wise men indeed, and the opinion of them is ^A famous, surpassing even apocryphal wonders. But what does the added preposition offend? I shall ask the judge of the discourse: or how do you again draw the present into the midst? For how will you understand "to be sold for gold" unless you take that [preposition] from outside into your writing? For I must by all means say to you something of your own. But, as it seems, for the sake of clarity, this wretched [preposition] has been found useless to you. For what is clear and manifest in discourses is most pleasant to historians, not to schedographs, nor to those who have attained that appellation. ^B But for you, who weave riddles in your *schede*, whatever is obvious and hateful is something else; but therefore phrases like "because of," "for the sake of," and others of this kind, or in place of the "above," it is necessary to take the "instead of" into the conclusion of the discourse. But why especially? For in place of this, it is better to say that the act is something, rather than to run around in so many circles. Next, there is a great affinity toward these, witnessed by the preposition "upon" (ge), ^C for the sake of which it is natural to be taken often. How then should it be deprived of its own properties in this place? It prevails on both sides; wherefore it is to be admitted. But if some other discourse drives it out, either show it, or keep silent, or you will seem to insult in vain those discourses that are irresponsible. It is not reasonable, however, for the patron of discourse to fight strongly with discourses that are without discourse. ^D

XXXIII. Against those who versify at the wrong time.

Measure me, then, O best, but with measure; for the word must be handled with reason. Do not use the good ill against me. For intemperance is everywhere a great evil, especially that which destroys the nature of measure.

XXXIV. Epitaphs for the beloved Michael the deacon

The sweetness of the greatest church, the salt of the sadness now prevailing, the comfort of our bitterness, has departed, leaving this wretched life. To us he left nothing but a calamitous life, while he himself fled and has escaped, saved. For it was not just that the light should still be held fast under darkness, and shine in vain, when all love not the light, but rather the darkness. Therefore he has moved to the kindred radiance. For he was united again to the Father of lights, from whom every perfect gift came into life. But from thence, O light of my eyes, illuminate me, your John, O Michael.

XXXV. Epitaphs for the Primicerius

This dead man was born to adorn this wretched life, before he appeared dead; while he yet lived, he was the light of life; while he dwelt upon the earth, he shone with brightness over the whole earth, like a lantern shining in a dark place. He was a gift of God, truly named ^A by his character, his word, his manner, and his bright life showing his nobility from above. This man was the best in laws because of his character, speaking what is just, and directing judgments, and being untaken by the snares of gifts, by which every tension is naturally softened. He, having the means to be mindful of his birth and fortune, looked to the earth, and thought humbly, as if he were some piteous, most cheap pauper. For he was indeed a pauper, but drawing from his hands most lavishly, he showed many to be rich. He traveled a path strange to men, and found a mixing of things that cannot be mixed, leading a life of asceticism together with civil life. And the one he practiced secretly as one without authority, in the other he was manifest, shining, if any other did. ^B By night persevering in sleepless prayers, and by day contributing to common affairs; remaining untainted in the midst of matters, like some pearl in the midst of filth. Gentle, calm, temperate, wise furthermore, sweet, affable, merciful, friendly to all, filled with the fear and love of God, bearing nothing from below, nor of matter, but always offering himself as a servant, a host, a provider, and a friend to the servants of God. This man (why do I not conclude quickly?) was a living image and pattern of virtue, and excelling all in good things alone, he confirmed his calling by his deeds. And these things were yesterday; but what now? A dream of a shadow.

^A All is fleeting, all is a phantom of phantoms, / Appearing briefly, and passing away at once, / Or rather to speak, these things live even again; / For virtue is not by nature born to die at all; / Corruption takes back only the earth / Whence it arose, and to which it returns. / Therefore he whom the grave hides has suffered nothing terrible; / But rather he, the survivor, has been deprived of this good life, / Having nothing else of such a kind to look upon. / And yet being in need of many things now, deservedly, / As the worse prevail everywhere; / Whence the matter is accounted a great mourning, / And one beats one's breast and weeps for the deceased, / Knowing the very great loss one has suffered. ^A

XXXVI. Epitaph for the Chartophylax

mourning himself with those things with which your suffering mourns. The cedar has fallen; let the pine tree groan. For if you, prudent, blameless, temperate, chaste, and young, were snatched away from life too soon, what is there left for the miserable me to hope for?

^A 37. Epitaphs on the Vestarch Andronicus. He who was yesterday great in life, shining in wealth, in words, in glory, and in laws, whom the world held as an ornament in the midst of the city, who sent forth a light from the earth rivaling the sun, Andronicus—alas, how shall I address him, and whom?—whose name no one could mention as deserving (him). Yet he lies there, and he has reached the end of life, and of a life that was flowing, but also (one of) envy. And this is the form of the one who has departed, only preserving the image of a beautiful body.

38. Others on the same. If even the wise die, what sense is there in words? If such a sudden ruin carries away the powerful, what is the desire for glory? What is wealth pleasant for? What is the grace of power, if all things die by the assault of a single disease? Carrying off the first among all these, before anyone could hope, before anyone could know the whole suffering, suddenly a corpse—alas—is hidden by a small stone, Andronicus (O wretched, unfortunate city), the brilliant mind, the fountain of thoughts, the statue of learning, the strength of the laws, the glory of power, and of those in office. Since such a one has been snatched away from life, what pleasant thing is left for us? ^B What other good thing? Sun, groan with me, having nothing else like him to gaze upon.

39. On his own tomb. Do not wonder, but tremble at the sight. For, being human, you behold the fate of a human. The end is common, but the time is unequal. You, too, shall show your tomb to others. But while that delays, know your own nature, and learn wisdom from the misfortunes of others.

40. Others. The phantom of life has departed, and yesterday is day. False dreams and wanderings, farewell. You play with us under shadows for a short time, then you betray us and leave us suddenly. For you were nothing but a gratification of dreams, stealing and deceiving those who are led astray.

^C 41. On a communal burial ground. Cruel mother, O bitter inhumanity, you who devour your own children! There is no mercy now; but at the very end, the angel’s trumpet shall demand them all.

42. Epigram on Plato and Plutarch. If you desire to rescue any who are strangers from your threats, my Christ, rescue Plato and Plutarch for me. For both in character and in speech, they were most nearly attached to your laws. But if they did not know that you are the God of all things, here only your kindness is needed, through which you desire to save all men freely.

XLIII. On the daily liturgy of Hagia Sophia.

XLIV. Another.

XLV. On the golden bull of the Laura.

XLVI. On his own house, when he left it after having sold it.

^A For you are my nurse and my most dearest nurturer, you alone my guardian and teacher. In you I have borne long labors and toils; in you I have passed whole sleepless nights; in you I have spent my days laboring on words, correcting some, and again arranging others, judging the quarrels between teachers and students, 29 ready for everyone with answers, and worn out by scriptures and books. In you I have gathered knowledge from lessons; in you I have scattered it to those who wished, and displayed many of the young as wise for free. By such things you charm me entirely, ancestral shelter. By such things you bend and break me, dearest. But reason conquers all, and the love of God; and thirdly, I count the fear of death, by which, as if struck suddenly by a gadfly, I depart, fleeing from where God leads, a neighbor to others instead of my previous lordship, ^B a wretched newcomer instead of a native, homeless, and in need of a foreign shelter, who did not begrudge mine to strangers. And since it is time to depart to a foreign land, farewell greatly, farewell to me, you genuine one—or rather, a stranger from this day forth—for you are also she who nursed me and fed me, 520 and from the time I was an infant, brought me to a perfect measure, and perfected me. Now you will have others whom you will teach and feed; you will provide opportunity for words to others, if they love words, though not to me any further. Farewell, then, farewell also, you faithful corner, 525 in which I lived in hiding my past life. You, too, kind neighbors, fare well, and do not look upon me with a scowl at my departure. 30 For the hand of God, which grasps all things, 530 places what is far away near with ease, until He gathers all into one judgment.

XLVII. When he recovered the house.

530 I have you again, and I see you, most dear, though I no longer call you an ancestral inheritance, but rather a most beloved gift of Christ, 535 and the bright grace of a pious king. For they, applying a sweet force to me, bring me back here again—the one indeed, in dreams, stretching out a divine right hand and often seen leading me to things that are there; the other, clearly applying force, and strongly demanding, as an unforgivable debt, the restoration of my father’s shelter.

^A And so, dwelling there for the second time, I do not know until when, nor for how long I am called the new master of the ancient [home], and I marvel at the unexpected change, and the unutterable [swaying] by which I have been moved. Thus God, in the ways He knows, turns and diversely leads our life, in Whom I put my trust, and I have confidence that He will also arrange the remainder of my life, bearing me toward salvation, weak and faint-hearted as I am; for to endure adversity is not my own strength. Therefore, do not turn these things away, my Christ; but only by these things may You lead my life!

Man, I was a man, do not condemn! For the disturbance was not as much godless, as it was a participant in contentious force. For why was it necessary for Cyril to be victorious everywhere, being both a dogmatist and a historian? Yet this, too, has been corrected again; as for all the other things, seeing the man yield in nothing to the greatest of shepherds, I reasonably include him here with them.

XLIX. On the Rule of the Laura.

XLVIII. On the holy Fathers recorded in history, among whom was Theodoretus.

L. On him who tore up his own written bond.

Matthaei Busti notes.

LI. On the same work recollectum.

LII. On the injurious writings against the king and the patriarch.

LIII. When he first came to the recognition of the kings.

Notes of Matthaeus Bustus.

IAMBIC VERSES

It persuaded me to feel differently than I did of old, and showed me something entirely new from the old; having wrought a twofold work, it filled me at once with strange pleasure and with radiance. For she—it—bears both these energies, being full of brilliance and delight. Just so, as it is said, the sight of God had previously shone upon the face of Moses, so that the contemplator of God had to take a veil whenever he needed to speak with others; for he had not a sight that could be endured if he entered into conversation unveiled. But you, most powerful of kings, by coming into my sight and allowing yourself to be seen briefly, have suddenly filled not merely my face or my vision, but my whole being with glory. And yet, I knew before this that you were a great master over us, and a divine image of God, rightly holding the reins of power and together with God preserving the world; but as for a most august God, a new shaper and another creator, I had not known you. Now, however, though late, I have recognized it—a thing, a wonder, a wonder surpassing wonders, which was hidden from me until now, and which I am with difficulty learning. For you are, it seems, in your nature some kind of god; tell me, then, how do you renew those who are in your image, and mold them so easily, and reshape them again, changing their thoughts and adjusting their character, ^A translating their reasonings and innovating their souls, driving, carrying, and turning all things with ease? And all this from your voice and your sight alone? I would not wonder so much at others whom you change like this in a short time and suddenly, as they are fervent and mobile; but how did you change us so ^B abruptly? Or how did so short a time avail? You conversed with us once closely, once you looked upon us and were seen momentarily, and straightway you departed, having altogether transformed us. For you have instilled a new heart within us, and created a new spirit in our inward parts. I was a rustic yesterday, but now I am highly refined; looking downward, but now looking upward; dispirited, but now lighthearted and full of pleasure; small, obscure, but now radiant and great; and to these things, I was not at all prepared from the beginning to show an example of a new sense ^C as I would give proof of this new passion. Being unfortunate before, now I boast of these things. Thus, your all-powerful grace has shown me to be entirely other than I was before. For it—your grace—shone upon me but briefly and for a little, and then vanished quickly from my eyes, like the swiftness and brightness of lightning; yet it mastered me to the end, and changed me with a beautiful transformation. But what would one feel if he were to experience the same again, and for a second time receive a similar vision, so that...

^A the king’s command might be satisfied? Evidently, he would not appear as a man, but as an angel, or even a god, totally deified through his communion with God. I shall try again, and many times, to approach you and obtain an audience, to see if I might perhaps obtain such good fortune. But I fear one thing, and I beseech your divine power to provide aid against this fear, lest the dire eye of a savage Gorgon should behold me trembling before the gate, lest some Cerberus bark mightily, or some indignant Hecate bite me; for how, as a lean and wasted man, could I endure even one wound from such a bite? Yet, I am timid of something else: I fear the sight of the liturgical spirits and the vision of your winged angels, for they snatch souls from bodies. From these rescue me, Savior of souls, Defender; let nothing of theirs disturb me, nor let any other phantasms or terrors that stand before the porches approach me. And when, by God’s help, I have passed through these and arrived near your throne, do not let a cherub 34 bearing a sword of fire wound me at the mouth and burn me; but since you yourself are rich in a mild nature, make the whole path smooth for me as well, so that if I safely ^B pass through it, it may be a port for me—sweeter than all else and friendly—filled with your serenity.

But now, faithful Christ of the Lord, you have as a partner and co-worker of your power, Christ, who both reigned and crowned you, and who reigns with you and protects you. For just as he was present as the fourth with the three youths in the midst of the furnace of old, so let him be present again here as the fourth in the midst of the palace, saving you first, O sun, and granting you a life free from pain, fortunate, victorious, and abounding in all good things. Then, this moon of the empire, the light of the world and most distinguished, who is nothing else than what she is named; for she is truly the Life of the present life. ^C Count also the third as the second for me: the bright star of the all-blessed crown, or her own sister in dignity, which is greater than anything else in glory. May Christ, therefore, ever be present as the fourth in your midst, and work toward a single harmony and unity of soul between you, granting to all a long life here, and bestowing from there his own glory and the crown, O most excellent one, of immortality.

LIV. To the Queens.

^D A common gift from one servant to the two queens, the august sisters.

^A

To my mistress [this] place is not enough; But the glory according to her, and the present fame, Has filled the entire inhabited world, And everywhere it shines and gleams more Than the moon’s beacon that illumines the world, So that her grace is manifest to all, Even if she herself remains within the palace. But O greatest lady of the present generation, (For to you I shall turn this brief speech, Even if I am unable to see you, how do you receive these things?) Offspring of such emperors, Whom it is not easy to count, Our scepter, and the providence of the empire, The remnant of nobility, the most beautiful Flower of the purple, the color of the dye, Eye of the world, wealth, glory, brilliance, Everything that is delightful among things honored! The salvation of our affairs, And the most fortunate life of the whole world, Thus extend from the ends of the earth to the ends, Shining for all both near and far, Thus seen and yet hidden, Fill all things with the purest light. ^B And thus send forth dense beams, Having another shining next to you, Another yourself, my mistress, Your own sister, genuine and most dear, With whom you share the reins of power. I pray that here for the longest time It may be granted to you to be, and to rejoice together; And indeed, may you be in high spirits, and may you behold for me, Both the radiant sun, and the daystar, The cosmic light, the serenity of life, The bright spring, the day of joy, The noble, and indeed fortunate, lord; The fortunate, and indeed pious, and more, The wonder of the earth, the great Monomachus, Whom the providence of the world showed to us As a dissolution of evils, and a fountain of all good things. Thus, living life free from sorrow, May you have this other lamp in your midst, Sending forth an inextinguishable light, Upon which looking by night and by day, Together may you be in good cheer, and be saved for me.

LV. In the memory of the holy Sergius and Bacchus, when he also sent gifts.

The martyrs who are neighbors to the sovereigns, As neighbors, love those from the neighborhood, Being friends of kings for a long time, And they have often loosened their calamities, Snatching them from the final destruction; For which they found from them a reward, This most august house here, Which is indeed a seemly glory to the empire, ^C and to the city an ornament, to the princes a guardian, Which the kings embrace most richly, Which the venerable princes venerate, [another ^D from]

Matthæi Busti notes. On the same Monomachus writes Zonaras in *Monomachus*. [alt-version omitted] For when certain provinces were exempt, which in place of taxes guarded the narrow straits, with the guards abolished, he imposed taxes upon them: (he understands the provinces subject to the city of Constantinople, or New Rome) [original-script column: see facsimile]

as a world, and to the palaces as a guardian. ^A Him the emperors welcome with riches, him the august masters worship, having received the pattern from one to another, and paying back the return for the wonders wrought upon them, allocating to the martyrs from the neighborhood. These, loving for a long time those who have power, love even more our masters, as being more pious and wiser. For they are wiser who know how to honor divine things more than all else; ^B these steer their power, surrounding their petitions with radiance. These fight as allies for their friends against enemies, and make them beloved to their subjects, gracious to all, loved by all. These even now, as friends to friends, send these tokens of goodwill, and signify to them in this way that their own day is now here, on which, having died gloriously, the noble ones were crowned with glory as victors, and they summon into one joy those whom they are accustomed to honor sincerely, so that they, being crowned, might rejoice together with the crowned ones, celebrating the festival in common. Obey, therefore, O radiant masters, and receive the communion of joy, here now as friends and neighbors; but in heaven, a little while later, when having received a better crown, you may rejoice together with them and with the angels.

LVI. On the icon of the emperor in Euchaita.

LVII. On the reliquary of the precious wood of Christ.

LVIII. On Saint Theophylact.

LIX. An enigma on a ship from another.

creeping, walking, and using wings. Hear, and marvel, and provide the solution.

LX. On him who proposes the same thing in other words, as if it were something else. I received you not bringing anything new. For you are not recent, as you boast, but entirely stale, a trifler appearing in words, like the rotten timbers of a ship broken by time, as some shipwrecked man gathering and reading. "Man, depart, you are capsizing the boat!" For you were born rather to destroy it than to save it, joining it most badly, yet easily loosening it—or rather, to speak better, tearing it apart with time. Thus has your wise pythia rotted. Your oracle is not new at all, yet empty; and having seemed a hero, you were found to be merely a trifler.

LXI. On the Lord's blood. It was fitting that the price of my soul should have the angels as worshippers in the heavens. But it was better that the one for whom it was poured out should worship this gift on earth below. Nevertheless, spirits also worship this, now honorably treasured here, for it is fitting that they venerate the blood of the Lord, through which they are joined into one with mortals.

^A LXII. On the Theotokos (36), as she appeared in a dream. It was not for the Maid, who loves mankind, to be sleeping, while the pious kept vigil in fear; nor to surrender the reins of power into hostile, servile, and barbarian hands. But hastening to the West, and to ^B the crown-bearer, she assists the one who rules the earth, thus making her course swift; and those friends whom she awakes bear witness.

LXIII. On the same. Having once run from the East to the West, and having justly slain the bloodthirsty one, the all-queen runs back again to her own city and puts the barbarians to flight, always granting victory to the crown-bearer; wherefore, by being painted, she also displays her course.

LXIV. On the two holy Theodores (37). How clever was the painter of these icons! For he himself, being divided, consisting of spirit and flesh, paints for himself two defenders, attributing the body to the one, but the soul to the other.

LXV. On one suddenly elevated to honors. A mystic-writer, a noble youth yesterday, and today he is present as a new tax-collector. The one has passed, but the other changes suddenly; yet this also again, in no long [time...]

will not remain. Yesterday has gone, the present day runs, and who will call the present day tomorrow, after it has become yesterday? ^A Since it is so, he is a friend now as a tax-collector, but time will soon show him to be something else. Then, along with his summons, he will be extinguished. Such is everything mortal, and flowing; it is a shadow not held by grasping hands. Who, then, could outrun a rushing stream?

LXVI. On the tomb. This is the common tomb of three most beloved ones; may no one add a fourth. For he will suffer—whoever he may be and wherever he may be—the retribution for his daring, the terrible judgment of God.

LXVII. On the paper. I have forty divine auxiliaries; I am fortified by forty defenders. Who will raise armed hands against these? Who will sustain the conflict against the phalanx of martyrs? See with whom you are joining battle, and with what a great army you dare to engage in war!

LXVIII. On the flowing water. ^A A rock once poured forth water for the people; and mystical discourses say this rock is Christ, who also offers nectar for one to drink unto immortality. The Mother of Christ is again a second rock; she emulates the Son, and pours forth the water of life. All of you, hasten and receive the grace.

LXIX. On the sign made of cinnabar on the papers. ^B The right hand of the wise king Monomachus has instilled a true mind in the young, staining the illustrious sign of royal dignity with a purple bloom.

LXX. On the trophy-bearer. Faithful king, pious emperor, venerable orthodox Monomachus, the love toward you that I bear in my heart, I have demonstrated through my works, illustrious trophy-bearer, by completing all things through your grace—of which this writing shows the types, bearing witness to my love before all others, and then to your most venerable Augustas.

Matthaeus Bustus' notes. ^D (38) Regarding *schedos*, I profess that I am clearly ignorant of what *schedos* is, nor how it might even be [schideuta]; I suspect a mistake exists in both, which, however, can only be aided by the benefit of another codex. Wherefore I refrain from all conjecture. For a great master forbids touching what is desperate. (39) Cedrenus writes of the *Theotokos* in the spring in the reign of Basilius, but briefly; Nicephorus Callistus writes more extensively in *Ecclesiastical History*, book XV, chapters 25 and 36. (40) Regarding "that which is done by cinnabar," it seemed that it should rather be done, than that some happier success was to be hoped for. Nor indeed did anything occur to me more frequently than that line in Euripides' *Hecuba*: "Whose divine soul of Helen, or Cassandra, shall I see, O Trojans, as I judge of dreams?" I have at last obtained the fulfillment of this wish. For at almost the very moment when this page was to be subjected to the press, so that we might not seem to have left anything untried, I decided to interrupt a man of great learning, Mr. H. Savile, though he was very busy; nor could I have ever provided a better injury to my own brow. For no sooner had he read these four verses than he resolved the matter, so long and fruitlessly sought, in a moment by a most happy conjecture, and confirmed with the greatest certainty that one must read "blooming with a purple tint" from those words, *antheis katachrozonta porphyrographei*.

VERSES IAMBIC

[LXXI. In the same.] ^A Aliorum king, yet thy faithful servant, Who by thy prayers to God holdest power, I give a brother to my subjects, Rejoicing in this, to bring glory to thee, And the Augustas, as helpers, I take For the same deed and liturgy, But grant in return, most great trophy-bearer, To us all, the kingdom above.

[LXXII. Alternating verses to the Incorporeal Angel.] Who gave form to the formless nature? She who adorned the crown, Theodora. And how did she recount the invisible vision? Faith guides all these things easily. What reward does the most pious one desire? She desires, before all things, the salvation of the soul. Supreme captain of the armies, hasten, fulfill the desire. Faith itself shall procure this also then.

[LXXIII. Others on the same.] Having thee here as a fervent defender, The most venerable Augusta Theodora Desires thee to defend her still more there, Supreme captain of the upper armies, When the King of heaven, judging from below, Leads the kings of the earth to a fearful judgment; Whence, having now received this gift from her, ^B Then fervently protect the giver.

LXXIV. In the prayer of the king lying beneath the feet of Christ (the king speaks). Thou hast established me king of thy creatures And lord of my fellow servants: But I, found a servant of sin, Dread thy scourges, O Lord Judge.

[LXXV. As from the Theotokos.] A Mother prays to thee, O Child, a Virgin; ^C He is thy work, even if he has offended thee, Thy creation, thy formation; he acknowledges no God Except thee: do thou grant salvation.

[LXXVI. As from the Forerunner.] He was a man, O merciful one, have indulgence; Living, indeed, inclined toward sin, Yet thy faith he has not denied: May his faith, O longsuffering one, save him.

[LXXVII. As from Christ.] The honor of the Mother and the request of the friend Bend me, not unwillingly, and persuade me: Enter into the joy of thy Lord.

[LXXVIII. Others to the Savior as if from the king.] To me, asking for nothing of passing things, ^D Thou hast given all, my Creator; But to one asking for the life that remains Be the more propitious and grant the grace.

LXXIX. On those crowned by Christ.

LXXX. Epitaph on the tomb of a king.

LXXXI. Other verses as if from the king.

yesterday a king, yesterday great in glory, yesterday Lord of land and sea. Such was the fruit of sin that I reaped here; but there is greater fear for those things hereafter. From which deliver me, my Creator Christ, deliver me by Thy free mercy, which refreshes me and to which I alone look; for there is no other hope of salvation anywhere. ^B LXXXII. Other verses. Woe is me for the profit of my miserable life! I lived but a little while in diverse fortunes; I saw all things joyful and the opposite; I was raised to glory, escaping the gates of Hades, and I was called king, alas, and Lord. Now I lie in a narrow stone, lifeless, breathless, dissolved into dust alone. Those things were a dream and nothing more. But Thou who didst fashion me with Thy undefiled hands, fashion me anew, me who am dissolved, and give a helping hand, give it to me as I lie, and show me Thy light again, my Creator. LXXXIII. Others. Thou art King, O Most High, and Thou art Lord, being the Lord of life and of death. But I, having received a mortal nature from corruption and being about to return quickly to corruption, held the name of king in vain, rejoicing in dreams and in unsubstantial shadows, which, after they had delighted and played with me for a little while, flew away in a short time. And they left to me, alas, the account of the things I did ill, which do not Thou, ^C my Creator, then weigh heavily; but as a merciful judge, have mercy on me. LXXXIV. Other verses. O vain and empty thoughts! Being a transitory man, I thought great things; and being a small particle of earth, I cast my eyes to the ends of the earth, seeking to consolidate the things contained in the circuit of the whole world into one within the limits of my power. But that which was held [by the earth] took possession of me first, and having enclosed me in a narrow place, it carries here ashes instead of [the body of] a lord. But Thou who didst fashion me with Thy undefiled hands, fashion me anew to salvation, and to those who look with sympathy upon my tomb, do Thou also appear sympathetic in the judgment. ^D

LXXXV. On the Image of the Three Holy Men, which he gave to Saint Gregory.

[...] always direct me toward salvation; for I desire to receive nothing more than this.

LXXVI. On the icon of the King and the Patriarch.

LXXXVII. On the prophet Daniel.

LXXXVIII. On his own behalf, to Christ.

LXXXIX. On his own behalf, to Christ.

you have deigned to enrich me freely; things which I deem the only dignity, wealth, renown, throne, and everything that is best, which do not allow the appetites of my will to wander easily, drinking in themselves the whole desire of the soul, just as the sea drinks in the rivers surrounding it; unless, by the weakness of the flesh, something should take, like a muddy pool, a small portion deviating from the stream. From which I, taking the incentives, have these very laws for myself to write, in which I am restrained, and I hold those things which are permitted.

XC. On himself.

Divitiis abundant multi. Many abound in riches. But why do I say this? For the tomb will have all men equally: the wealthy, the mediocre, the lesser, and the poorest. But for now, allow them to play a little, until they feel that they have empty hands. Many thrones carry the lofty on high, but I, having been fashioned from the earth of old, incline toward the earth and seek to remain below. I ward off exaltation with much light, lest, having been darkened from on high, I fall to the ground,

paying the penalty befitting pride. ^A Whence, choosing humble safety, I walk on foot, being an animal that goes on foot by nature. To all I am not unseen, as those from on high are, but I am known to many from below. I know what is greater, rather, for glory, when someone himself from a lowly place extends toward the height and seems great, just as a colossus carrying its own length, and needing nothing from the place for its elevation. But as many as boast in steps and thrones, these are no better than jackdaws, priding themselves in feathers not their own, from which the stripping again brings even more shame. For by comparison with added colors, they display a greater deformity. But the whole crowd will applaud those in the midst. Having said "crowd," my good man, seek nothing more. For a crowd is nothing else but truly a crowd, bestowing disorderly outcries upon those in power as an appropriate soothing of authority, while contributing nothing at all of what is useful, but rather possessing the potential to cause great harm. For it often puffs them up with praises, persuading them to hear these words as true. But they are nothing but empty sounds, harassers of empty thoughts, liars, deceivers, sorcerers, a jest to men, a pit for the incoherent, in which he who trusts is witless. One must not be overly concerned about a loud clamor; even starlings are loud-voiced, but empty-headed. With these reasonings and words, I lead ^B myself and conclude my life.

14. To himself.

^C Honors pull; beware, the whirlwind is swift. Votes are being cast, tempests conspire. Thrones call out: "O helmsman, look! Do you see how great a surge has arisen around us? Hasten, help; the boat is being submerged." Quickly, O reason, take up the helm, before we are overcome by force. Do you also invite me to labor with you? As you command, I obey. Speak, then. "You, walk your own way wisely; for it is enough if you run this path well." But as for those steps and thrones which you fear, many were indeed powerful yesterday and the day before, and many will be those streaming in with time, with which all also ^D fade away in turn, until they arrive at the common end, having gained nothing else from them except the accounts to be rendered for them, and causing them more bitterness tomorrow than they delight those who possess them today. For they do delight, but like coals to infants, who admire only the brightness, and do not consider that there is fire at the same time, until eventually someone, through suffering, brings his mind to bear and learns. So be it; you have spoken well. But how will you trade your talent of the word?

What talent of speech is there in one who possesses no speech? ^A For you see how the organs [of the body] are exhausted, so that they cannot easily send forth even a faint sound. So much has the discipline that now constrains me prevailed over my former ways, by which I have ceased to act the part of an actor in vain, and to chatter much in schools and assemblies. Turning inward, I temper my words, bringing forth nothing superfluous, nothing untimely, and bestowing my voice only upon necessary things. Thus, flattering and soothing the malady, I barely stir my vital spirit. Otherwise, there was long ago a certain eloquence, and it has brought forth for you not a useless fruit, having well cultivated many of the young. For I do not name all, that I may not boast; but it lifted many from their studies, and to many it brought something in the way of character, wherein education is more fortunate ^B than in those superfluous elegancies of speech. These youths, wise as they are, I add as the greatest profit to my talent. You see some of them now as masters, shining deservedly with bright honors; yet they do not blame me for being idle at present. For I am parched by the conflagration of the malady, and a stranger to public affairs, just as I am to agriculture. Whence, having leisure, I have clung to my books, wishing to be a disciple, not a master.

For I know this very well, ^C and it is in every way a safer course. Will you hide your lamp in a corner? What are you saying, man? How do you call that a lamp, which does not have the light befitting a lamp? It was a lamp, I know—for this must not be denied—but having no sufficient oil for nourishment, it shows the wick extinguished. That which, in its wasting, has not the sheen of light, shines but dimly. For the word grows weak along with the body, just as a melody does with a damaged lyre. Therefore, the remnant of the light must be guarded by me, shut up safely within and kept far from the open winds, lest it be extinguished entirely and stolen from me in a short time. ^D But [that person] himself sets another lamp in the midst, one that sends forth such a sheen in a circle as much as you wish, without fearing its extinction. For it is an equal evil to shut up a great light and to take a small one out into the open. It is enough if it illuminates a proportional space; and it is enough, even if it lives without clarity. For perhaps it might contribute somewhere to a kindling, even if it has nothing at all to shine with for the present, as is our own most feeble utterance. How then would fame bring you to the highest point, not yielding to the course of the day?

Stay, O wretched one, quietly in your place.

^A For you see none of the phantasms you imagine. Ponder it for me as follows, that you might clearly understand. Why did you speak of glory? Is it not the error of the multitude, by which they are both deceived and deceive others equally? This is nothing to us who have perceived it. For we have long known what is the most precise glory, and what, on the other hand, is vain and most false. Straining all my desire toward that, I take the least pleasure in this falsely named glory—and rightly so. For what account should be taken of an idol, when it is possible to look toward Truth herself? In her, would that I might find the greatest splendor, delighting me eternally and most fully. But this present little thing, let it mock those who cherish it as something great, until it has flown off and fled from everyone at once, and they, having been persuaded late, say the same things. Well done, we are prevailing; there is no tempest. The raging sea has been tamed, and the voyage for the ship is again with a fair wind. Take heart, O reason; for under God you are sailing, by whom you have the power to conquer in times of storm.

^B XCII. Palinode regarding these matters after the ordination.

This discourse of ours is not upright. For I am taking up the story again poetically, and I do not confirm what was declared before; for every discourse among mortals is changeable. But I will say rather that the discourse indeed remains, yet the nature of things undergoes change. Being a man, O man, say nothing great. For I will not believe this—that nonsense is being bandied about while someone breathes and looks upon the sun. A witness of these things is he himself who writes, having suffered and learned, and recounting these things again: who yesterday was thinking and writing other things, seeing a dream, as it seems, not a reality, regarding the change that lasts until the end of all things; and, seeing the present state well-established, he was vainly not keeping watch for the morrow. Still sailing in the midst of the sea, he was emboldened as if he had already reached the harbors. Such is the lightness that harms the mind, persuading it to think that one is master of oneself, and sets one's life as is pleasing to oneself. But it does not allow one to perceive Him who turns all things with all-wise reason, and directs all things toward what is useful; He who is not to be escaped, until, having been caught unawares, one falls and regains his senses. This [is what happened] to me also, who had led my whole life so quietly, and had long ago said goodbye to all these things—to ranks, to processions, to dignities, to thrones—to the very storm and whirlwind of evils with which all the glory of life is filled, and I was already convinced that I had conquered in the end, (as one might then, from the things that were written before,

learn) ^A And now, as I was raising my hands on high, and was already holding the great symbol of victory, He anticipated me, seizing it with a mighty hand, and having bent my unyielding heart by force, He leads, carries, and places in the midst, him who had clearly seemed to have escaped everything already. But that certain confusion and darkness of those former unstable dreams and of the reasonings by which I was holding myself fast have vanished, God having thus suddenly overthrown them, God having thus in an ineffable way confounded and commingled all things, so that through ignorance we may revere Him—as one of the ancients said, an outsider, yet one who seems to have spoken well. For wonder comes to him especially from the abyss of hidden judgments, the ineffable calculations of which no one knows. To these I too have yielded. For why should I grieve, falling before the great King? Therefore I have been tamed and, altogether conquered, I have already submitted to the burden of the yoke; and I am a witness of the all-powerful might, which easily forces all nature, even if there be in it some great hardness. But if anyone boasts that he is firm in his mind, and believes that he is securely established by reasonings, he may thence receive sufficient instruction, not to be over-confident, nor to trust ^B too much, for he will use his own laws in everything. For another is He for us who possesses all might, from whom alone we must seek the proper end of every work and word, and of every purpose and reasoning and course. For no one knows by himself whither he runs, before someone, having died, might have the experience of all things, of the beginning together, and the end, and the things in between; which things we, considering, ought to be more cautious, while always asking for the useful things of the future.

XCIII. On the Novella of the Nomophylax.

XCIV. On the second discourse on the Tropeophoros.

XCV. When he desisted from the writing of the chronicler.

^C Therefore, let them be dismissed from [these] panegyrics; for the narrative shall proceed no further. For it is not naturally born to [speak] words of falsehood, and the law turns it away from deceit. Here, therefore, it pauses its course for a time, until someone shall grant it the [opportunity] to run onward in a straight line.

XCVI. On the Menaea given to Euchaita

XCVII. On the same

XCVIII. On the corrected books

XCIX. On the Apostles

C. On the angel standing outside the gate

CI. On the baptism of Christ, in heroic verse

CII. On a certain monk, seemingly silent

A silent fish you are in name, and in truth you are seen to be.

CIII. Iambic Verses on the Most Holy Theotokos.

CIV. On the Dominical Feasts.

CV. On Holy Easter.

1199

JOANNIS EUCHAITENSIS VERSUS IAMBICI. 1200

^A As the disciples [run] to the divine tomb of God, That, gazing upon the Word Himself, We may steal away the “Rejoice,” as did the Marys. But you, O priest, who offer up the supplications, Bless now, I pray, the word as you bestow your blessing.

Let us go forth to meet Christ with longing, Clad in the white veils of orthodoxy, Girded with the panoply of faith, And with action as our sandals for the contemplation; Bearing on our feet, in an active running, Let us hasten upward into the God-founded darkness.

^B

EJUSDEM JOANNIS EPIGRAMMATA V,

Ab Antonio Ballerinio ex codice Vaticano Græce editi. — « Aliquam, inquit, interpretationem addere animus refugiebat, quia, ut Matthæi Busti eadem de re verbis utar, exsangue Latinæ versionis cadaver Græco poetæ animato et vivido alligari non sustinui. »

I (53).

These are the concerns and labors of John, Of a man who fled from a second calling. For as a weak man, the burden of his office And the volume of glory he could not bear. Lightly he sailed across the sea of life, And tasted of the grace of Providence. He is therefore void of additional titles, And is adorned only by his primary calling. Yet if any one counts him among the deacons ^C Of God, and thence assigns him a greater calling, It brings no further light to his discernment. Nor, if you wish, count him trifly among those of Claudius, For there is no envy in ancestral marks of distinction.

II.

Formerly it was thus, but now it is thus again: The writer is the pitiable shepherd of Euchaita, And is also a Syncellus. But oh, how and whence? Divine Providence, to you be thanks; for these things are yours. For you yourself have wrought these things in the ways you judged; To these things we are nothing; you yourself bear witness.

^B II. On his own book. Who would look at you, o book? Who would chance upon you? Or who would take you into their hands? Thus does fear of worthlessness grip me, Even if anything useful should appear in your words. Alas, alas! I crave everywhere to write more, But I see none who pay heed even to these things. For other labors now press upon others, And for these discourses and writings there is no account. Wherefore the gift of my God, the word, Although I have it at hand, I have no gratitude for it, But looking at it shut up in silence, I endure this too, as I do all other things.

^C V. Others. And these things are many for those who use them, Or rather, they are entirely useless in these present days— Days in which it seems that wealth is needed, not words; When zeal for affairs holds sway, not for letters. Such is the result, O labors and words, Of my studies.

ANNO DOMINI 1072. JOANNES XIPHILINUS PATRIARCH OF CONSTANTINOPLE.

NOTICE

Regarding Joannes Xiphilinus, Patriarch of Constantinople, the following is recorded by the Joannes Xiphilinus who redacted the History of Dio into a compendium: "I say this no longer as Dio of Prusa, who lived under the emperors Severus and Alexander, but as Joannes Xiphilinus, a nephew of [the] Patriarch Joannes, who, under the Emperor Michael Doukas, compiled this epitome of the many books of Dio." See Sylburg’s edition, pp. 195, 196.

OF OUR FATHER AMONG THE SAINTS, JOANNES, ARCHBISHOP OF CONSTANTINOPLE, SURNAME XIPHILINUS: SOME ORATIONS.

ST. FATHER JOANNES XIPHILINUS, PATRIARCH OF CONSTANTINOPLE: SOME ORATIONS.

[EDITED FROM VARIOUS CODICES AND ANNOTATED BY CHRISTIAN FRIEDRICH MATTHÆI, RECTOR OF THE MOSCOW UNIVERSITY GYMNASIA. (Printed at the Imperial University of Moscow. Year 1775, quarto.—These include three homilies of Basil the Great, already formerly published, contrary to the belief of Matthæi.)]

^A THIRD SUNDAY OF LUKE. — AFTER THE EXALTATION. The great mystery of the Resurrection, my brethren, we are taught not so much by words as by the very deeds of our Lord and God; and regarding the commandments also...